


Gods & Monsters

by DizzyDrea



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Coulson Lives, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 12:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12705399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: In which (some of) The Avengers are gods, Phil Coulson died (and rose again, much to his consternation), and Tony Stark can't believe his luck (well, actually, he can; he's just trying not to be an asshole about it). Oh, and Steve might be falling in love with a goddess. No lie, it's been a helluva week.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been a long time coming. I first had the idea about a year after The Avengers premiered. It was inspired, in part, by several Tumblr posts that identified each of the Avengers as a Greek god or goddess. Sadly, I've lost track of those posts, or else I'd have linked to them here. As with all ideas, this one evolved until it became the story you're about to read. I'm not a Greek Mythology expert, so I've had to do A LOT of research for this story. I've stayed pretty close to Greek mythological traditions, but I've made some changes in order for this story to make sense. So, if you read something that isn't exactly what you remember, just know that it was intentional on my part. Hopefully I've explained things well enough, but if something doesn't make sense, I'm happy to clarify it for you.
> 
> Much gratitude and all the chocolate in the world should go to [Lily_of_the_Valley](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_of_the_Valley/pseuds/Lily_of_the_Valley) for her awesome beta work. When she first got hold of this story, it was a hot mess. She pointed out contradictions, inconsistencies, and my liberal usage of the word 'but'. If this story is readable and makes any sense at all to you, it's because of her tireless work. I've edited it quite a bit since she did the beta read, so any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Artwork for this story was done by [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan). It's fabulous and everything I could have imagined for this story. Thank you so much!
> 
> Disclaimer: The Avengers and all its particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, Joss Whedon, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

The shawarma had been the best fucking idea in this or any other galaxy, and Clint Barton wasn't afraid to say so, even if it would make Stark crow like the oversexed peacock Natasha said he was.

Of course, it helped that he couldn't remember eating since dinner the night before everything went to shit at Pegasus. When he'd realized that he couldn't fight Loki's mind control, he'd simply retreated to a place of safety in his mind. He'd allowed the memory of laughter-like bells and the smell of ambrosia in the air shield him from the horrors he was being forced to commit on behalf of an insane demigod.

Thank fuck for Nat and her 'cognitive recalibration'. Otherwise, Clint was pretty sure he'd have gone nuts if he'd had to put up with Loki for one minute more. The dude was batshit crazy, and that was no exaggeration.

"Christ, Barton, just how much have you eaten?"

Barton very casually flipped Stark the bird. "I haven't eaten in three days, asshole."

"And you're okay otherwise?"

That was Captain America. Clint was honestly touched that Steve Rogers cared. He'd been the second one to trust that Clint was okay, after everything he'd been through. That meant a lot to Clint.

"Eh, apart from feeling like I could eat an elephant all by myself," Clint shrugged. "Nothing a good vacation can't fix."

"And the mind control?" Doctor Banner asked, sort of carefully. "You're not feeling any… after effects?"

Clint looked up, taking in the haggard form of Bruce Banner. He got where the doc was coming from; not being in control was the worst thing that could happen to a person who normally had their shit together. That wasn't, for better or worse, Clinton Francis Barton, and never had been.

"I'm not saying it's gonna be easy," Clint said. He leaned back in his chair, tossing his napkin on his mostly empty plate with a heavy sigh. "What Loki did was fucked up for sure. But if I think about it too much … I'm not the guilty one here. I can't remember that if I'm worried about people blaming me for what Loki did."

"Your attitude is admirable, friend Barton," Thor said. "Though I believe none of us would begrudge you some ill will towards my brother."

"Oh, trust me," Clint said, steel in his voice, "if that motherfucker gets loose, I'm gonna kill him so hard they'll feel it in Asgard."

"Amen," Stark said.

Nat nodded in agreement, though Thor looked a little… concerned, which Clint could understand. After all, he had his own lowlife, scumbag brother, and whether he liked it or not, Barney was still his brother. Clint picked up his soda and toasted Thor. The god might not know why, but Clint was willing to bet he could figure it out. A thought that was borne out when Thor repeated his gesture.

"When do they want us for debrief?" Clint asked, turning to Nat, who'd been silent throughout the exchange. "I think I could sleep for a week, but I have a feeling Fury and Coulson will want to corner us for a few hours first."

Natasha went still, and the rest of the Avengers stopped eating. Clint frowned. "What'd I miss?"

"Agent Coulson is dead," Stark said, so quietly Clint almost missed it.

"Fury called it," Natasha said, turning to Clint and gripping his hand tightly. "Loki stabbed him with the spear—he bled out before the medics could get there."

Clint ripped his hand away and stood, staggering back and sending his chair skittering across the floor. "No. Nonononono. He can't be. I—it's—just no—"

"Easy there, soldier," Steve said. He stood up and rounded the table, taking Clint by his upper arms. "Just breathe. In. Out. In. Out."

Clint hadn't been aware of his vision starting to grey out at the edges until Steve reminded him to breathe. He sucked in lungfuls of air, one or two catching on a sob that he couldn't hold in.

He slumped into Steve, feeling the other man's arms pull him in and hold him up. He knew everyone must be sharing pitying looks, but for the life of him, he didn't care. Phil Coulson wasn't supposed to die. He was supposed to be the one constant in Clint's life, his true north. He'd been the one to see potential in a scrawny kid using an antiquated weapon to wreak havoc on the world. For that alone, Coulson had earned his undying loyalty.

"I can't—I don't wanna do this without him," he muttered.

A cool hand rested on the nape of his neck, soft Russian flowing over him like water over rocks. He knew what Natasha was saying, could understand her perfectly, but the words just floated away. 

He took a few moments to gather himself before stepping back from Steve. He'd honestly wanted to stay there forever, because standing in the circle of Steve's arms felt safe in a way he'd rarely known in his life, but there were things he needed to do, and he couldn't indulge himself yet.

When he scanned the rest of their faces, all he saw were people who were concerned for him. It was… startling. Not that he didn't believe he deserved such compassion, but that he found it in people he barely knew. But Clint of all people understood that the bonds formed in battle were some of the strongest in the world. And right now, he'd take whatever support he could get.

"I need—I have to see him," he said, looking to Nat.

She just nodded. That was Natasha Romanov in a nutshell: practical. She didn't ask, she just did what needed to be done. "I'll see if there's a Quinjet that can pick us up."

"Fuck that," Stark said, shaking his head the best he could inside the armor. He flipped down his visor and went silent. A minute later he was hovering over the broken floor of the shawarma joint they'd invaded. The visor popped open, a huge grin lighting up his face. "Air Stark, at your service."

"Is that thing even safe for you to be in?" Natasha asked, one eyebrow raised.

Stark wobbled for a moment before he got it back under control. "Yeah, good to go. Mostly."

Clint eyed him up, but ultimately shrugged. "I doubt Fury's got any Quinjets left, and it's faster than walking."

Thor burst out laughing. He slapped Clint on the shoulder, knocking him sideways a bit. "Do not be alarmed. I will ferry you to the great beast in the sky. You will suffer no harm in my care."

"Hey—" Stark started in outrage before Steve cut him off.

"Can it, Stark. You can give me and Doctor Banner a lift." He turned to look at the scientist, who'd been sitting at the table, watching the whole drama unfold.

"Eh, I'm up for a good show," Banner said. He stood up and pulled on the jacket he'd found somewhere. "But you drop me and I'm not stopping The Other Guy from ripping a hole in your shiny armor."

Stark just laughed. "Fair enough. Hop on board."

Clint and Natasha wrapped themselves around Thor as he spun up his hammer and vaulted into the air. Stark was right behind them, Steve and Doctor Banner clinging to his armor for dear life.

~o~

Stark, Doctor Banner and Steve ended up in a pile of limbs because the armor was finally giving out under all the strain of the day. And no wonder, since he'd fought invading aliens and taken an unplanned trip to outer space. It was a wonder the thing was still functioning. Thor, on the other hand, landed gracefully on the deck of the helicarrier, and Clint only staggered a little bit as he untangled himself from Nat.

Without a word, they all headed to the bridge, figuring that would be the most likely place to find Fury.

He was only slightly surprised when his teammates—his _friends_ , a tiny voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Coulson—closed ranks around him, bracketing him and Banner as they moved through the 'carrier. And yeah, he was surprised that the Doctor had agreed to come, would have figured he'd want to be anywhere but the scene of the crime as it were, but there he was—hunched up inside the oversized jacket he'd found, but there just the same, and Clint promised himself he'd never forget that.

The flight deck wasn't as big of a mess as Clint had expected. There were even a couple of Quinjets still moored to the deck, testament to just how much of a surprise Loki's attack had been. Clint shrugged off the thoughts; if he dwelled on it too much, he knew he'd start to feel the guilt, and that was the exact opposite of helpful right now. 

So he was carefully not thinking about all the damage they passed as they made their way through the helicarrier to the bridge, and totally ignoring all the strange looks they were getting along the way. And the whispering. He thought about glowering a few people into submission—people he'd known before it all went to shit—but he couldn't be bothered.

Finally, they reached the bridge. Fury was right where Clint had expected him to be: on the observation deck, practically glaring a hole in the techs trying to cobble together some working consoles. Maria Hill, his ever-present right hand, stood beside him, reviewing something on her tablet. It was all so normal that for a moment his footsteps faltered.

"Easy," Natasha murmured, a hand on his arm to steady him.

Clint shrugged it off and headed straight for Fury. "Were you ever going to tell me? I had to hear it from Tony Fucking Stark, so I just want to know: were you ever going to tell me? That Coulson's—Phil's—"

"There wasn't time," Fury said, and Clint had to give him credit for not playing dumb. Not that it would have done any good. "I had to make a decision and I did. End of story. Now, you should probably head back to medical, and the rest of you need to be debriefed."

"No," Clint said, taking a step closer. He felt rather than heard the rest of the Avengers follow. "Tell me. Tell me what happened. Tell me he made it to the other side."

"You think I would deny him that?" Fury asked, one eyebrow raised. "Of course he made it to the other side."

"Did you check?" Clint asked. "Because I don't want there to be any mistakes. He gets a free pass. You owe him that much."

Fury huffed. "I owe him a lot more than that. Doesn't mean I won't snap you in half for even questioning me."

Clint just glared. The Avengers stepped up around him, showing their support in a way that Fury couldn't possibly miss. They didn't seem to get why this was so important, but Clint knew they would soon. He was done keeping this secret.

Fury sighed and closed his good eye, tilting his head just a bit. Long minutes passed. Clint didn't fidget, didn't move a muscle. He was used to having to keep still in the field. This was no different, even if the outcome wouldn't be what he wanted.

"Fuck," Fury said, his eye popping open. "He never made it to the boats."

"What?" Clint shouted.

"How is that possible?" Natasha asked, on the heels of Clint's outburst.

"The only way he doesn't cross over is if he's not really dead," Clint said, voice steely. "So either you lied or something else is going on here."

"Someone want to let the rest of the class in on the joke?" Stark asked.

"It's not your concern, Stark," Fury said, barely flicking the man a gaze.

"Pardon me, but I think this is our concern," Steve said in that infuriatingly calm, commanding voice he had. "Agent Coulson was our friend. We deserve to know what's happened to him."

"I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on shit like this?" Clint asked.

"Kinda hard to do that when I'm up to my armpits in aliens," Fury snapped.

"Persephone should have met him at the gate," Maria said. "She knows he was close to one of us and should've ensured he made the journey. Something must have gone wrong."

"Hold up," Stark said, raising a hand. "Are you saying that the _Greek Goddess_ Persephone was supposed to meet Agent Coulson and escort him across _The River Styx_ to _Hades_?"

"Hades is my name," Fury said, leveling Tony with an unimpressed glare. "The Underworld is my domain. I'll thank you to remember the difference."

A second later Stark, Steve, Maria and Fury were yelling at each other, the shock of that revelation sending Stark in particular into overdrive. Clint even thought he could hear Stark trying and failing to engage his repulsors, taking up a defensive posture as tempers rose and Banner's skin took on a dangerous green tinge.

A sharp whistle cracked through the air. Clint could see Maria's thunderous expression as her fingers hung there on her lips, the whistle effectively cutting off the argument before it could escalate. There was silence for a handful of seconds as everyone caught their breath, and Clint wondered who would be the first to recover their wits. Turned out, it was the last person he'd have expected.

"You know, there are scholars and academics all over the world who'd kill to have the existence of the gods of Olympus confirmed for them," Banner said, looking decidedly less green than he had a minute ago.

"That's what you're thinking of? Now?" Stark asked, clearly incredulous. "I mean, those gods don't exist. They're just myths, right?"

Everyone turned to look at Thor, then back at Stark, who just slumped. "Okay, yeah, point taken. Speaking of which, Point Break, how did you not know that Fury here is really Hades in disguise?"

Thor cocked his head and examined Fury, head to toe. Clint would think it was funny, except it really wasn't.

"The Cloak you wear is singularly effective," Thor said when he'd finished his perusal. "At this very moment, I am still unable to see you clearly."

"That's because it's supposed to hide what we are," Clint said, impatient to get back to the topic of Coulson's whereabouts.

"We?" Stark asked, turning his raised eyebrow on Clint. "Just how many of you are there? And who are you, if you don't mind my asking?"

Clint straightened up, pulling as much of his natural authority around him as he could manage. "I am Hermes, Messenger of the Gods."

"I am Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, daughter of Zeus," Natasha said, her eyes flashing as if she was daring Stark to refute her.

"And I am Athena, daughter of Zeus, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategic Warfare," Maria said, stepping up beside Fury.

Stark glanced around. "Anyone else want to join this mass hysteria? No? Okay, then, someone explain to me how the hell _Olympians_ are in New York City, working for SHIELD."

"Maybe we should start with how you know all the names of the Olympians, Stark," Rogers said.

Stark shrugged, as much as he could in his armor. "Misspent youth. I thought I might want to study the Classics. Didn't last long."

"Just until he got over the crush he had on the girl in his class, I'll bet," Natasha muttered.

Everyone but Thor chuckled, but they all sobered quickly. Clint, Natasha, Maria and Fury shared a look and Clint shrugged, crossing his arms and recusing himself from the debate. He was of the opinion that the horse had already left the barn—no sense trying to lock the door now. Fury just nodded.

"We have passed the millennia watching humanity," he began, tucking his hands behind his back, his entire demeanor changing from that of Fury to one of the oldest beings in the known Realms. "But there were some among us who were not content to simply watch. Ares, in particular, longed for the days when the gods walked freely among men. And so, one day, he left Olympus, intent on seeing the world he'd watched for so long. My brother Zeus became concerned that Ares might incite violence and war—both strong in his nature—among the humans, and so he permitted a few of us to travel to this Realm to search for him."

"So, the four of you are looking for Ares, the God of War?" Stark said. "Clearly it's not working if you're still here. Wait, how long have you been here?"

"We were all born on Earth, Stark," Maria said. "These bodies are just the Cloak of Humanity we wear. When we leave this Realm, we will shed the Cloak and return to our true selves."

"Huh," Tony said. "And when will that be?"

"When our work here is done," Natasha said. "Has anyone checked the morgue?"

"What—oh, to see if his body is still there," Clint said. He cringed, because for a few minutes, he'd forgotten what had actually started the whole thing. "What'll it mean if it isn't?"

"Nothing good," Fury said. "Hill, check the surveillance video."

Maria pulled up the video on her tablet, and Clint watched as her frown deepened the more of it she watched. "Lots of bodies going in, but none have come out that I can see. There's a glitch in the feed, maybe a couple of hours after Coulson's—well. But nothing showing anyone _leaving_ with a body."

Fury just frowned, then turned and headed for the corridor.

The whole group followed Fury down to the morgue, even after he told them all he didn't need an escort. Clint had never trusted his uncle, and wasn't about to start now, even if he was technically Clint's boss.

When they arrived, Fury went right to a drawer and opened the door, pulling out a tray that had a sheet lying on it, but no body.

"Fuck," Clint said. "So, someone stole Coulson's body. Who the hell would do that? And why?"

"There's only one way to find out," Maria said.

"You think she'll talk to me?" Clint asked.

"You are the Messenger," Natasha said. "Whether she likes it or not, she'll have to talk to you."

"Who are we talking about?" Steve interjected.

"The Oracle," Fury said. "A few humans in every generation are blessed by the gods with sight beyond what humans normally possess. We know of at least one in New York."

"The fact that the body's not here and it's not showing up on the surveillance video means it could have been one of us that took him," Maria said. "Of course it could have been a human with a really sick agenda and the skills to alter our video surveillance. Regardless, if anyone might know who it was and where they went, it'll be the Oracle."

"Stark, where's your girlfriend right now?" Clint asked.

"JARVIS, where's—wait a minute," Stark said, turning to face Clint. "Are you trying to tell me that Pepper is this Oracle? Holy fuck! It's no wonder—"

"She can't see the future, Stark," Maria said, cutting off whatever it is he would have said. "She just… knows things."

"Which is why she's so fucking good at the shit I sucked at," Stark said. He looked like nothing less than a proud papa, which was creeping Clint out.

"Stark, just find her for us," Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

"As I would have said before the interruption," JARVIS's tinny voice said from inside the armor, "Ms Potts' plane will be landing at La Guardia in fifteen minutes."

"Get me a bird, fueled and ready," Clint said as he turned and headed for the door.

"You're not going alone," Fury said. "Take—"

"I can't take any of you, and you know it," Clint said, pausing at the door. "Banner or Rogers. If he's not still on Earth, there's only two places he could be, and they're the only ones that could take it."

"I'm good, thanks," Banner said from his place holding up a wall. "Just let me know how it all turns out."

"I'll go," Steve said.

"You don't even know where you're going," Stark said. "Besides, she's my girlfriend, and I did almost die. I should probably go reassure her she won't be inheriting the company today."

"It's a private audience, Stark," Clint said, nodding at Steve as he came to join him at the door. "You can play kissy-face with your girlfriend after I find out who stole Coulson's body."

"Fuck that," Stark said, crossing the room to join the other two men. "I need a ride back to the Tower anyway. You'll have to just suck it up, Robin Hood."

And with that, Stark headed out, clearly expecting Clint and Steve to follow. Clint shared a glance with Natasha, who just smirked. Clint offered his own smirk, then left to follow Stark to the deck and a waiting Quinjet, Steve following quietly behind.

~o~

Steve stood on the deck of the helicarrier, watching as Barton did the pre-flight check before they headed over to Manhattan in search of the Oracle. His head was still spinning with all that he'd learned in the last hour, but he kept coming back to one thing: gods were real, and he'd spent the better part of the day helping them beat back an alien invasion.

This hadn't exactly been what he'd imagined when he'd accepted Erskine's offer all those months—years—ago. He'd just wanted to do his part, help defeat the Nazis and make the world safe again. When he'd woken up in this brave new world, he'd come to realize that, though the date on the calendar had changed, the world was no safer than it had been the day he'd gone into the ice.

He crossed his arms over his chest as Barton ran his fingers under the wings of the Quinjet. Maria stepped up beside him quietly, hands clasped behind her back as she stood watching Barton. He appreciated that about her: she had a stillness about her, an economy of word and motion that spoke of someone who didn't need to draw attention to herself.

He'd found himself drawn to her over the weeks since he'd woken up. She was the calm center in the storm, the anchor in a stormy sea. For a long time, that had been Peggy for him, but he knew Peggy was gone; she might still be alive, but she wasn't the woman he remembered anymore. He couldn't mourn her forever, he didn't have that luxury.

But knowing what he now knew about Maria only complicated things more.

"Do you miss it?" he asked her, almost without thinking.

Maria shrugged. "The last time I saw home was a lifetime ago. It's almost like a dream now. A beautiful dream."

"Yeah," Steve said, snorting. He could relate to that. _"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."_

"Hamlet," she said. "This must all be such a shock to you."

"Not really, considering who and what I am," he said. "Still, when I went into the ice, the biggest threat we'd ever seen was Nazism. Now? Aliens and gods roam the earth."

"It's a bit much to take in, I'm sure," she said.

"It's not like the world was perfect to start with," Steve said, shrugging. "I guess I just can't imagine why you'd leave paradise to come here."

"There really wasn't much of a choice," Maria said. "We couldn't just let Ares run around unchecked. He has the potential to destroy this world, and while Earth isn't our world, Ares is one of us so it's our responsibility. We had to do what we could. I only hope it will be enough."

"He's human? Ares is human now?" he asked.

"Yes, human like us. It's the one condition Zeus set for any Olympian who wished to walk among humans. We must be born and live as a human, take on the Cloak and sacrifice all that being a god affords us for the lifetime we live on Earth," she said. "Which doesn't matter much. He could choose to shed his Cloak and unleash the power of the gods on this world. You'd have no defense against that, and this world would fall to dust."

"We defeated Loki," he said. "We defeated Loki because we stood together. We lost good men in the fight, but ultimately, we won. I have to believe we can do it again if we need to."

"Phil was my friend," she said quietly. "Losing him—I can't imagine this fight without him. I don't even want to try. If there's a chance you can bring him back…"

Steve turned and looked at this strong, beautiful woman devastated by the loss of a friend. He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "One way or another, we'll bring him home. You have my word."

Maria pressed her lips together and nodded, but Steve could see the emotion in her eyes. He didn't know Coulson well, but knowing that good men and women like Barton and Maria valued him told him all he needed to know. He only hoped he could keep the promise he'd just made.

~o~

"What did you mean when you said that only Doctor Banner and I could 'take it'?" Steve asked once the Quinjet was in the air. His mind was still reeling from everything that had been revealed over the last hour, but that one detail had stuck in his mind.

"If it was an Olympian that took Coulson, the safest place to take him would be Mount Olympus," Clint said. "As the Messenger of the Gods, I have the ability to pass between the Realms at will. If any of the others went back, they'd lose their Cloak of Humanity, and their ability to return in their current forms."

"And me and Doctor Banner?"

Barton's lips pressed into a thin line. "Both you and Doctor Banner are demigods. Because of that, you can return to Olympus, but only for a short time. It's not gonna be easy, but you can technically do it."

Steve was startled into silence. A demigod? He didn't like the implications of that, but he didn't understand a lot of what was going on, so that wasn't new.

"I'm not sure what that even means, Agent Barton," he said instead.

"It means your mom probably did it with one of Merida's buddies," Stark said as he stepped onto the flight deck. "So which one likes to dip his toe into the human pool? I bet it was Zeus. Dude always did have a soft spot for the ladies."

"Jesus, Stark, could you be any more inappropriate?" Barton asked, turning to glare at him before turning back around to concentrate on flying.

"I wasn't born this way, Stark," Steve said. "You do remember that, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, scrawny kid from Brooklyn, got it," Stark said, waving away the comment. "What I want to know is how my girlfriend got to be the Oracle of All Knowing. Is there a job listing somewhere? What are the benefits like? Because I gotta tell ya, Stark Industries has a _great_ benefits package."

"If you don't shut up, I'm gonna eject you, armor or no armor," Barton said.

Steve glanced back at Stark, who'd shed the Iron Man armor as soon as they'd lifted off the deck. Steve was honestly surprised it was still even marginally functional, what with the beating it had taken over the course of the day. He might not understand its inner workings, but even he understood that technology had its limits.

"The Stark Industries hanger is on the far side of the airport, at the end of the general aviation row," Stark said, leaning over the console to peek out the front window.

They were approaching the airport now, and it was an eerie sight. Steve hadn't seen much of this new world he'd found himself in, but even he knew it was preternaturally quiet. Just a few planes moving on the ground as they rolled to a stop at the terminals. People running around offloading passengers and luggage, but without the sense of urgency he'd have expected.

Barton set the Quinjet down outside the SI hanger and the three men walked down the ramp just as the SI jet rolled to a stop next to them. The plane's door opened and a woman in a business suit with shining red hair was the first down the stairs. Stark didn't even try to contain himself, just jogged the short distance to the plane and pulled the woman into his arms.

They held on for a few minutes, whispering quietly to each other. It was touching, and not what he'd expected from Stark, but the man had to have a heart, even if it was buried under layers of sarcasm and armor.

When the two of them pulled apart, Stark took her hand and walked her over to where Steve and Barton stood beside the Quinjet.

"Gentlemen," Stark said, the first genuine smile Steve had ever seen stretching the man's face, "this is Pepper Potts, my girlfriend and the CEO of Stark Industries. Pep, this is—"

"Captain America, I'm well aware," she said, holding out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Steve extended his hand and shook hers. "Ma'am, good to meet you too."

"He's so polite," she said, leaning into Stark. "You could take lessons."

Stark merely snorted. He turned to Barton and made the introductions. "This is Agent Clint Barton of SHIELD."

Barton extended his hand to shake hers. She looked him in the eyes as she took his hand, recognition dawning on her face as their eyes met.

"Yes, I think you and I need to talk," Pepper said. "Who are you?"

"Hermes, ma'am," Barton said, sketching a quick bow.

"Well, I've never had an Olympian seek me out," she said, smiling at him. "Why don't we go inside and talk." She turned to Stark and pointed a finger at him. "And nothing from you. Not one word."

"What? I wasn't going to say anything," Stark said, hands raised in surrender.

"Right," Pepper muttered. She turned and headed for the building, the rest of them following behind like little ducks. Once inside, she took them into a plush conference room. She settled at the head of the table and extended her hand to indicate Barton should sit on her left. Stark didn't even ask, just dropped into the seat on her right as if it was his natural place. Steve sat down beside Barton and waited.

"What knowledge do you seek, Olympian?" Pepper asked without ceremony.

Barton took a deep breath, appearing to steel himself for whatever it was he planned to say. 

"Phil Coulson was killed in the battle aboard the 'carrier," he said bluntly. Pepper took a startled breath, her hand flying to her mouth. "Thing is, his body isn't in the morgue anymore. Someone took him, but there's no video record of that."

"You believe it to be one of you that took him," Pepper said.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Barton said. "I mean, it could have been humans, but I just don't know what they'd hope to gain by taking his body."

Pepper conceded the point with a tip of her head. She closed her eyes and seemed to go into some sort of meditative state, hands outstretched and pressing on the table in front of her. Long moments passed, and Stark started to fidget. Eventually, she opened her eyes, but they glowed gold, and her voice when she spoke sounded like a chorus of voices instead of just one.

"The answers you seek can be found in the Realm of the Gods."

"Who?" Barton asked, leaning forward. "Who took him?"

Pepper turned her head towards Barton. "Hera."

"Fuck," Barton said, falling back in his chair. He rubbed a hand over his face, leaning back and staring at the ceiling for a moment.

Pepper seemed to come back to herself, if the lack of glowing gold eyes was anything to go by.

"We'll need a gateway," Barton finally said, sitting back up.

"Stark Tower," Pepper said. "Use elevator four."

"Pepper darling," Stark said, finally speaking up. "Why is there an elevator to Mount Olympus in my building?"

~o~

They were back in the Quinjet, headed for Midtown and Stark Tower. They'd left Stark with Pepper, which had surprised Clint. He'd expected Stark's innate curiosity to win out, but apparently facing his own mortality had changed him.

Steve was sitting in the co-pilot's seat again, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Clint chuckled.

"Just ask, Cap," he said.

Steve sighed. "Have you always known you were an Olympian?"

"Not always," Clint said. "I started having dreams when I hit puberty. Then dreams turned into visions, until one day I just woke up and… knew."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Oh, fuck no," Clint said. "My dad was a bastard. If he hadn't killed himself and my mom in a car wreck when I was a kid, I'd have probably done it myself once I figured out who I was. My brother—who was a hundred percent human, by the way—and I ended up running away to join the circus, of all things. Carson's wasn't exactly the best place to grow up, but it was better than the orphanage we ran away from. Anyway, the Fortune Teller—Madame Rosmerta—must have been an Oracle. She knew before I did, about what I am. She told me I had a destiny—a Fate—that was bigger than even I could imagine."

"It must have been hard," Steve said quietly, "knowing who you were meant to be, but being powerless to do anything to change your circumstances."

Clint shrugged. "It sucked, but there really wasn't a lot I could do about it. I knew I couldn't go back; Hades and the others needed me too much. I just had to suck it up and find a way back to them."

"How did you all wind up at SHIELD?" Steve asked.

"Fury was first," Clint said. "He brought Maria in, sent Coulson after me. Coulson sent me after Nat, not knowing who she was or why I was really the only one who could bring her in. Fury knew we'd need SHIELD resources to find Ares and keep tabs on him."

"You know where he is?" Steve asked, his head swiveling around, surprise echoing in his tone.

"Yeah," Clint said, shrugging. "We've known for a while. Thing is, he's not done having fun down here, and until he is, we can't leave."

"No, I guess you can't," Steve said. "So, what's it like? Mount Olympus, I mean. I'd like to have some idea of what to expect when we arrive."

"Olympus is like nothing you've ever experienced before, Cap," Clint said. They were nearing downtown, so he focused on setting the Quinjet down on a helipad a couple of blocks from Stark Tower. When he'd shut everything down, he turned to Steve. "I'm not gonna lie: it's gonna suck hard when you first arrive. There's gonna be a part of you that feels like you've come home. That's the blood of the Titans in you."

"And the rest?"

"The rest is gonna feel like someone's trying to remove your intestines through your nose."

Steve looked pole-axed for a second, before he shook his head, chuckling just a little. "It wasn't a walk in the park, you know. Project Rebirth. I think I can handle this."

Clint gave him an assessing look. Whatever else he might think or feel, he certainly believed he could handle whatever Olympus threw at him. That was something, at least.

"Good," Clint said. "As for Olympus itself, it's honestly the most beautiful place in the universe, populated by the biggest band of assholes you'll ever meet in this or any other Realm."

Again, Steve laughed out loud. "You don't pull any punches, do you?"

"Eh," Clint said, shrugging, "I'm related to most of those assholes, one way or another. Some of them are good people who've only ever wanted to help humanity. The rest aren't worth your time. You'll know the difference, believe me."

"And Hera?" Steve asked. "Isn't she your mother?"

"Stepmother," Clint said, shuddering. "Thank fuck. She's also batshit crazy, so tread carefully."

"You aren't coming with?" Steve asked.

"I'll get you to Olympus, but once we get there, you'll have to talk to her alone," Clint said. "Let's just say that there's no love lost between Hera and me. The less said about that the better."

"Got it," Steve said.

Clint unbuckled himself and headed for the back ramp, Steve following behind. He picked up his quiver and shrugged into it, barely registering that he'd done so, it was such an ingrained habit. He saw Steve grab his shield and shook his head. "You won't need your shield."

Steve raised one eyebrow. "Are you leaving your bow and arrow behind?"

"Point," Clint said, making no move to take off any of his weapons. "Come on. Time to go meet the parents."

Steve snorted but followed Clint out of the plane and down the emergency stairs to the street. Frankly, Manhattan was a mess, but Clint didn't dwell on it too much. This part, at least, wasn't directly his fault, and he'd helped shut down the invasion, so he felt he'd more than done his part. The clean-up was better left to Fury and Stark anyway.

They slipped around the corner and into the lobby of Stark Tower. There was a guard on duty, but he just nodded to them when they crossed the lobby and headed straight for the elevators. When he pushed the call button, elevator four opened immediately. Clint's eyebrow rose, but he got on without comment.

Clint pressed the door button, holding the doors open. "Last chance to bail out. No one's making you do this, and I won't hold it against you if you don't want to."

Steve just stepped on board the elevator car and nodded. "I'm not letting you do this alone, Barton. Let's go."

Clint nodded in return, too choked up with emotion to give an answer. After everything that had happened with Loki and the Chitauri, having Captain America's backing meant more than he could even express, so he didn't try. He just allowed the doors to close, bracing himself as the elevator car rose through the building.

~o~


	2. Chapter 2

~o~

When the elevator doors opened, mere moments after they'd closed, Clint took his first, deep breath of Olympian air in… well, the gods didn't measure time the same as humans, so he had no idea how long it had really been. But he could feel his heart singing, and he felt the strength of his true nature filling him again. He planned to savor it, because he wasn't sticking around long, and who knew how long it would be until he came back.

He glanced over at his teammate, finding Steve on one knee, trying to breathe through the pain. He hadn't been kidding; for a demigod, it would feel like having a piece of himself ripped away. That he was still conscious was a minor miracle.

Long minutes passed as Steve struggled to adapt. Finally, he staggered to his feet, wiping at his brow with the sleeve of his uniform. He pulled his arm back, frowning at it, then checking the rest of his clothes and gear.

"Why am I suddenly wearing white?" Steve asked, clearly bewildered.

Clint chuckled. "Olympus has purified you. Purged all that isn't hers and left only the good parts behind."

"Huh," Steve said. He looked Clint over, one eyebrow raised. "Looks like she did the same to you."

Clint glanced down at his own clothes, which had been black and purple when they'd gotten on the elevator, but were now white, trimmed in gold. Rogers' clothes were the same; even his shield had been stripped of color and now gleamed silver and gold.

"Yeah, she has this thing," Clint said.

"You talk about Olympus as if it's alive," Steve said.

Clint stepped out of the elevator and onto the grassy hillside in front of him. Behind them, the doors quietly shut. When Clint glanced back, they looked like wooden doors from any number of old buildings. When they were ready to leave, though, those same doors would lead to the gateway and home.

"Olympus isn't a person, per se," Clint said, setting off along the path leading up the mountain. "But she's been our home for so long that she's… absorbed some of our magic. It's made her alive in ways we try very hard not to think about."

"Interesting," Steve said.

"That's one way to put it," Clint said. "Hopefully we won't be here long enough for you to get the full effect. We have about a day, maybe a little longer, to finish this."

"And what happens if we can't finish this in a day?"

Clint stopped and turned around to look at Rogers. "You'll lose your connection with whatever humanity you have, and won't be able to return to Earth. I'd like to avoid you being stuck here. No one deserves eternity with these assholes. Trust me."

"And you? Is the same true for you?" Steve asked.

"No," Clint said, shaking his head as he turned and resumed walking. "I'm the Messenger of the Gods. Of all of us who took up the Cloak, I'm the only one who can travel between Realms at will. Once my business here is finished, I can return to Earth."

"Then let's hope Hera is in the mood to cooperate," Steve said.

Clint just snorted, but kept his opinion to himself. He looked up to the mountain, seeing a glint in the sky in the distance. It drew closer as they walked, until Clint could make out a chariot and horses, with a single driver aboard. It slowed and swooped in, settling to a stop just a few feet up the path. The driver hopped out and headed straight for them.

"Hail, my brother!" Apollo said, a huge grin on his face. He pulled Clint into a bone-crushing hug, then pulled back and examined him head to toe. "You look well, for having been amongst humans all these many days."

"They're a lot more interesting than you give them credit for," Clint said, shaking his head.

"And how fares my sister?" Apollo asked.

"Still just as badass as always," Clint said. "She'll kick your ass from here to Delphi without breaking a sweat just as soon as she gets back, I promise."

Apollo threw his head back and laughed. "I see your sense of humor has not changed. Nor has your affinity for my sister's favorite bow."

"And don't think I don't enjoy her pissy look every time I pull it out in front of her," Clint said to Steve. He turned back to his brother to make the introductions. "Apollo, this is Steve Rogers, known among humans as Captain America. Cap, my brother Apollo."

Apollo turned to Steve and gave him an assessing once-over. The smile he gave Steve was genuine, though a good deal less jubilant than the one he'd given Clint.

"It is a pleasure to meet such a fine warrior," he said, holding out his hand. Steve reached out and fell into the warrior's handshake—forearms clasped together—with ease.

"Sir," Steve said, nodding his acknowledgement. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance."

"He does not seem to know what to do with me," Apollo said, speaking to Clint like Steve wasn't even there.

"He only just found out that we're actually real," Clint said, slapping his brother on the shoulder. "Give him a break."

"And if you ask what needs breaking, I'll take a swing at you, god or no," Steve said, stepping back and resting his fists on his hips.

Apollo gave a startled bark of laughter. "I like this one. Come, I am bid to bring you to our father's house. There are many who wish to see you, now you have returned."

"Joy," Clint muttered.

He and Steve followed Apollo to his chariot and stepped aboard, easily finding handholds as the horses pulled the chariot into the air. Olympus passed beneath them, fields of grass shimmering in the light, rivers of ambrosia winking like diamonds as they made their way down the hillside. Clint could feel the ache building in his chest. It had been so long since he'd been home. He knew he could have—and probably should have—come back long before now, but honestly, he'd felt a little guilty that he could but the others couldn't. Not that he'd known where to find a gateway, anyway, at least until now.

Still, it was good to be home, for a little while at least. And it would be good to see the rest of his family. Well, most of them, anyway.

~o~

Apollo landed the chariot at the foot of a large, open-air structure. Steve and Clint stepped off and Clint turned to watch as the chariot rose into the sky. When he turned back around, he could see a few Olympians gathered around the pool stretching the long length of the terrace. Most paid him and Steve no mind, but the two closest to them were watching with interest.

Clint smiled and headed over, Steve following behind. When he was close enough, one of the women rose to meet him and enveloped him in a strong hug. Clint just melted into the embrace, too tired and heart-sore to fight it.

"You always did give the best hugs," he muttered as he pulled back.

"Dear boy, for you my hugs are always available," she said, smiling as she brushed some hair off his forehead. Despite the fact that Clint had a mother, Hestia had always felt more like a mother to him than any woman in his life.

Heart too full of emotion, he only nodded as he turned to the other woman. "Demeter. It's good to see you."

"I'm glad you've returned, young one," Demeter said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. Clint repressed the urge to blush. Somehow, Demeter always brought that out in him, as if he weren't a full-fledged god himself but rather a schoolboy with a crush. "We'll have to celebrate."

"I'd love to take you up on that, but we won't be here long," Clint said. "Just long enough to take care of some business, and then we're gone."

The two women shared a look, but it was Hestia that asked. "That business wouldn't happen to include your friend and your stepmother, would it?"

"Yeah," Clint said, wincing. "This is Steve Rogers. He's—"

"A demigod, and a rather handsome one," Demeter said. "It's a pleasure to meet you, young one."

"Ma'am," Steve said, nodding at both women. "We're just here to find a friend."

"Yes, I'm sure you are," Hestia said. "It seems some of us aren't quite finished meddling in the affairs of the humans, no matter what Zeus has to say on the matter."

"Speaking of," Demeter said. "Your father wishes to speak to you. He's waiting in the throne room."

Clint's eyes drifted up the side of the mountain. Near the top, shrouded in clouds and flashing with lightning, sat his father's throne. On an average day, the cloud cover would cling to the mountain top, hiding Zeus' sanctum from view. When the clouds turned dark and angry, most Olympians knew to stay away. Clint had never been that lucky.

"Yeah, guess we should get going."

"When you have completed your task, join us for a meal," Demeter said. "I for one would enjoy hearing about the humans and this new world they live in."

"Oh, I've got stories to tell," Clint said, smirking. "But we'll see how long it takes us to get the job done. Don't want Cap here to get stuck. He's got a life to get back to."

"So do you," Steve said, pinning Clint with a pointed look.

Clint smiled, but it was only a ghost of a smile, tinted with sadness. His life on Earth wasn't all sunshine and roses, but it was his, for better or worse.

"Come on," Clint said. "Let's go beard the lion."

~o~

The closer they got to the top of the mountain, the more Clint could see the storm clouds that were now nearly obscuring his father's throne. It wasn't a good sign, but it wasn't like they had any kind of choice. When Zeus summoned you, you went.

Clint slowed as they walked the steps leading to the throne room. It wasn't actually a room, though that's what it had been called originally. It was more like an open pavilion with columns holding the roof overhead. All very Greek, which made sense, because the Greeks were the ones they'd first appeared to, all those millennia ago.

As they crested the stairs, Clint could see his father, seated—or maybe slouched was a better word—on the throne, his head resting on the fist of his left hand, elbow propped on the arm of the great chair. He looked… frustrated, tired, and quietly furious.

At least this time it wasn't Clint's fault.

"Father," Clint called out as they stepped further into the room.

Zeus straightened up, the weariness falling away as he looked back at his son. "My son, it is good to see you once again."

The great king stepped down off the dais and crossed to pull Clint into a bear of a hug. He grunted, because his father had clearly not lost any of his strength. Clint thought he might wind up with a couple of cracked ribs; this body, while not quite human, wasn't quite Olympian either.

Patting his father's back, he whispered, "You're crushing me."

Zeus immediately stepped back. "My apologies. It is only that I am relieved to see you once again. I was not certain you would return. When last we saw one another—"

"Water under the bridge, Father," Clint said, holding up a hand. He had absolutely zero desire to revisit the argument they'd had right before he left for Earth with the rest. His father hadn't wanted him to go, but as the Messenger of the Gods, Clint had known he had to, for times like this, if nothing else.

"So like your mother," Zeus said, laying a hand on his arm. The look on his face could only be called fond, and while Clint hadn't know his mother well, he'd known his father had always had a soft spot for the Nymph.

Steve cleared his throat quietly beside them, bringing Clint out of his musings. He turned to his friend and nodded.

"Father, may I present Steve Rogers, known to the humans as Captain America."

"Ah, yes, one of the first of a new generation of demigods," Zeus said, turning a speculative gaze on the man. "There are those among us who continue to watch the humans. They tell me great tales of your strength, courage and integrity. It is an uncommon trait in the men of your world."

"Thank you, sir," Steve said, though he looked like he didn't quite know what to do with the compliment.

"Before you ask, I know why you are here," Zeus said, holding up a hand. The storm clouds, which had parted briefly when Clint and Steve had arrived, began to gather again.

"Then it's true," Clint said. "Hera took my friend; prevented his crossing. But why?"

Zeus shook his head. "That I could not tell you. She told no one of her plans, and I only became aware of her absence just before she returned. She has sequestered herself in the gardens and will not allow anyone admittance, least of all me."

"Did she talk to anyone about her plans?" Clint asked. He was struggling to understand what she'd done and why, but he wasn't coming up with any answers.

"If she did, they have not shared that knowledge with me," Zeus said. His frown was pure frustration. "Hera and I have always had a tumultuous relationship, but I cannot believe she would openly defy me in this way."

"In what way?" Steve asked.

Zeus turned to him, but if he felt the pressure of a living god looking him straight in the eye, he didn't show it.

"For many millennia, as you are no doubt aware, we of Olympus walked freely among the humans. Some of us even struck up friendships with them." Zeus sighed. "Some more than that. I permitted it because the humans respected us, revered us even, and because I, too, was as guilty as the rest. But times changed, as did the humans. They no longer worshipped us as they once did. Most no longer believe us to be real. They grew strong and wise, and no longer needed or wanted our counsel, and so we withdrew from them."

"And then Ares decided he was bored and headed for Earth," Clint said, a bitter bite to his words.

"Without your permission, I presume," Steve said, turning to Zeus.

"Indeed," Zeus said, nodding his head. "The others volunteered to follow him, but I set strict conditions for their entry into the Human Realm. Where once we moved freely on Earth, I instead required them to don the Cloak of humanity and live as a human. It would appear that those conditions have been violated."

"To be fair, Hera came down and fucked the whole thing up," Clint said. "We were doing just fine keeping the secret until she stole the body of one of my best friends before he could cross the river."

"For which none of you will be punished," Zeus said, waving Clint's protest away.

"We still have a problem," Clint said. "Why did Hera take Coulson, and what'll it take to get him back?"

"You said she won't let any of you near her," Steve said. At Zeus' nod, he tipped his head. "Do you think she'd talk to me?"

"You may be the only one she will talk to," Clint said. "It's part of the reason I even agreed to let you come along. There's no way she'll talk to me, and if she's not talking to Father…"

"I may be able to get through to her when the rest of you can't," Steve said, finishing Clint's thought. "What do I have to do?"

Zeus flicked his hand, a ball of lightning coalescing in his palm. He whispered into it and then threw it down the mountain.

"Hera is mercurial—" Clint snorted at this, and not even a glare from his father could quell his reaction, before Zeus continued "—and impulsive. She will not be swayed by force or coercion. You must argue the logic of the situation, though logic may be lost on her. Do not appeal to her vanity or attempt to placate her. It will not end well for you."

Steve appeared to be thinking it over, but before he'd come to any real conclusion, someone else joined them in the throne room.

"Ah, big sis," Clint said, a smile on his face. He pulled her into a hug, getting a warm squeeze in return.

"Aphrodite," Zeus said. "This is Steve Rogers, a friend of our dear Hermes. He wishes to speak to Hera."

Aphrodite gave a comical smirk that said she knew exactly how much Steve actually wanted to talk to Hera, but kept her mouth shut out of respect for their father.

"It is a pleasure to meet you and welcome you to the Realm of the Gods," she said instead, turning the full force of her personality on Cap. Clint could almost feel sorry for him, except for the part where he knew how attractive his sister was, and Steve needed someone to remove the stick from his ass.

"Ma'am," Steve said, nodding.

"Are you certain you wouldn't rather spend your time in more pleasurable pursuits?" she asked, her voice almost a purr as she stepped up beside Steve.

Clint coughed, while Steve looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. Zeus cleared his throat pointedly. "The Captain must speak with Hera. Time is of the essence, Daughter."

"You humans have so little of it," she said, a pouty look on her face that lesser men than Steve Rogers had fallen for. Steve, it appeared, was made of sterner stuff, because he just stood there while Aphrodite looped her arm through his and nearly dragged him off to see their step-mother.

"Was that entirely fair of you?" Clint asked, somewhat amused. "Inflicting Aphrodite on him?"

"I have watched this Captain America many times," Zeus said. "He is a man of honor. If anyone can resist your sister's charms, I feel it is him. Besides, it is another of my daughters that has caught your Captain's eye." He turned and headed for the chaise tucked into a corner of the room. "Now, we have time yet before your friend is able to talk Hera out of whatever it is she is doing. Tell me of your time on Earth."

Clint followed and settled on a chair beside his father. How was he ever going to explain it all?

~o~

"Hera has sequestered herself in the gardens, and will permit no one entrance," Aphrodite said as they walked along the path leading away from the throne room. The purple fabric of her gown swished gently, adding a silent musicality to the way she moved. Steve found himself helplessly captivated by it, a notion which was disconcerting at best. "She may admit you, but do not expect her to explain what she has done or why. She is not accustomed to being questioned by lesser beings."

"I just want to talk to her, ma'am," Steve said, keeping a tight rein on his thoughts and emotions. There was something about this woman—this goddess—that seemed to draw him in, leaving him feeling slightly disoriented, mostly because it reminded him of the near-instant affinity he'd felt for Maria Hill. He wondered if all of Zeus' daughters held such sway with all the men they met, but he knew if he was going to get Agent Coulson back, he needed to stay focused on the task at hand. There'd be time to think about that later.

They arrived at an arch made of marble, climbing vines weaving over its surface. Steve could see the shimmer of what looked like a force-field, and when Aphrodite reached out to touch it, it shimmered and flexed, but her hand would not pass through.

"I wish you good luck, Captain," she said, turning to him. She stroked a hand down his cheek as she winked at him. "When you've completed your task, join my brother and the others. We will celebrate your great victory and send you back to Earth."

"Ma'am," Steve said, nodding to her.

He watched her walk away, the swing of her hips nearly hypnotic. Shaking his head, he turned to the gate and set his shoulders. He had no idea if he'd be able to pass through, or if it would hurt at all, but he had a job to do, and he needed to get it done. He tugged his shield off his back and held it in front of him as he took a step through the gate, huffing in surprise when the field gave way and allowed him through. He glanced behind him, once he was on the other side, but he could still see the shimmer of the shield.

He turned and headed up the path as he swung his shield into place on his back, admiring the beautiful foliage around him as he went. Clint hadn't been kidding when he'd said that Olympus was like no place he'd ever visited. He saw rich, verdant greens, riotously-colored flowers, and heard the babble of a brook as it danced over rocks and careened around corners. It was idyllic in its own way, and he could definitely see the appeal of passing the millennia here.

He rounded a bend in the path and came to a halt at the sight before him. Lying on a dais in the middle of a terrace was the body of Phil Coulson. And beyond him stood a woman, dressed in beautiful white fabric that fell in waves around her, her dark hair piled on top of her head in some intricate style that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, if they even existed in a place like this. She seemed to be oblivious to his arrival, lost in thoughts he had no hope of deciphering.

Steve stepped onto the terrace, moving in close to get a good look at Coulson's body. He appeared to be sleeping, though Steve couldn't see his chest move. His skin was flushed pink, his lips slightly parted, and there was no blood to be seen anywhere on his clothing. The man was probably even still wearing the same suit he'd been in when he'd been stabbed, bleached to a pale grey but still recognizable.

"Your friend is here under my protection," the woman said without turning around. "You may not have him."

"He doesn't belong here, ma'am," Steve said. "He was stabbed—killed—by a god from another Realm. His soul needs to pass on to the next world, not be trapped here in this gilded cage."

Hera turned, her eyes flashing. Literally. Steve had always wondered why people said that; he thought now he knew.

"You humans would waste him," She said, advancing to face off with him over Coulson's body. "He will be nothing but cannon fodder in a battle you have no hope of winning. At least here, he is at peace."

She bent over, running a hand over his cheek, her eyes softening into something like sorrow or pity.

"Peace is of no use to men like us," Steve said, shaking his head. "We're men of war. We fight so others may live. It's what we were made for. You can't take that away from him."

Hera stood up and stared at him, eyes narrowed. "I know precisely what you were made for, Captain. Who do you think gave your Doctor Erskine the serum that created you?"

"That was you?" Steve asked. He'd always believed Erskine had developed it himself, but it made a sort of sense that nothing else did that he'd gotten it from an Olympian. "Why?"

"Erskine fascinated me," Hera said, trailing her hand along the dais as she walked away from him. "He was convinced he could create a better human, a stronger human. One with a sense of duty that would trump all other loyalties. And so I stole away to Earth and sought him out." She settled on a bench on the other side of the terrace and looked at Steve. "I told him that Schmidt was the wrong person to bestow his gift on, but Schmidt forced his hand and I could do nothing to stop it. You, though, you were perfect. So noble and self-sacrificing. You have become exactly what we expected you to be."

Steve crossed the terrace to join her on the bench, pulling his shield off and leaning it against the bench. He was a bit unsettled by the knowledge that he owed his existence in some small way to this woman. "Then I suppose I should thank you for being my benefactor."

Hera threw her head back and laughed. "And never has someone sounded so grateful and so horrified at once. Would it unsettle you more to know that I am not so much a benefactor as I am your mother?"

"I had a mother back on Earth, thank you," Steve said with a mild grimace.

"And when Erskine injected you with the serum based on my blood, I became your mother," Hera said. "It is my blood that now runs through your veins. You are a demigod of my making."

Steve stared at her, not sure what to do with that knowledge. He didn't think she was as crazy as Clint seemed to think, but she wasn't exactly rational, either.

"Why did you help him create me?"

"Your people needed a champion," she said. "Balance had to be restored."

"So, you helped Erskine create me to atone for helping him create Schmidt," Steve said. "Is that why you took Coulson? To atone for some other failure on your part?"

~o~

"Tell me of Ares," Zeus commanded as he settled on a chaise overlooking the valley below.

Olympus laid out beneath his feet, and it was no surprise at all why he'd picked this particular mountain for his throne. From here he could see all of Olympus and stroke his ego at will. Clint snorted at the arrogance of the man, but sat on the chair beside his father, stretching out his legs and settling back.

"He leads the humans in secret. I have no idea what his plans are. Hades may know, but he's learned to keep secrets of his own in the time he's been on Earth. I doubt even you would be able to get him to answer."

"Then why do you not destroy Ares' Cloak and force his return?" Zeus asked impatiently. "Then at least this business would be finished."

"It's not that simple and you know it," Clint said, a hard glint in his eyes. "If we don't do this properly, he'll just squirm away and start over. It was sheer luck we found him the first time; I doubt we'd get that lucky twice."

"And what of the Oracles? Are they of no use to you?" Zeus asked.

Clint shrugged. "We haven't consulted one."

"And why not?" Zeus bit out. "Or is that one of Hades' secrets as well?"

Clint could sing whole sonnets about what he thought about the choices Fury had made, but he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't his place to judge the decisions made by his elders or his bosses. He didn't trust Fury, but going behind his back and collecting intel was dangerous to all of them. Maybe he'd sic Stark on the SHIELD database when they got back; it could be worth it to have him crawl through the files and see what dropped out.

"You told us all to follow his lead," Clint said instead. "You gave him command of this operation, such as it is. We follow him because you asked us to. Don't go complaining now that it's not working out the way you'd hoped."

Thunder boomed overhead. "If you will recall, I was never in favor of allowing you to go in the first place. The affairs of the humans are none of our concern. We should have left them to fend for themselves."

"And what happens when he finally subjugates the humans?" Clint asked, leaning forward and dropping his feet on the floor. "Ares is blood-thirsty and spoiling for a fight. When he's done conquering Earth, he'll come for you, and he won't stop until he's either destroyed Olympus or taken it for himself. I told you that on the day I left; my opinion hasn't changed."

"As if I need a whelp like you to tell me when my kingdom is in jeopardy," Zeus said, low and dangerous. "Ares would never dare move against me, for the sake of his mother, if nothing else."

"So you'd threaten to destroy his mother to get him to cave in?" Clint said incredulously. Although, really, he should have expected it. "Christ, you're a piece of work. I'm gonna tell you now, it won't stop him. Nothing short of your death will stop him."

"And you think you can stop him?" Zeus said, eyebrow raised. "With your borrowed bow and the confidence of youth?"

"I think it's on me to try," Clint said. He stood up, looming over his father in a way very few ever dared to. "It's on all of us to try, but since you don't seem to want to defend your kingdom, much less the humans, it's our responsibility to stop Ares before he turns his eyes toward our home."

He didn't even wait for a reply, simply turned on his heel and marched out of the room before he said something he'd truly regret.

~o~

Hera stood and walked a few paces away. "I took your friend because I refuse to watch one more good man cut down by those who have no place interfering in the matters of men."

Steve mulled that over. There was no way she could have stopped Loki, even if she'd known what the man was going to do. Then again, if Coulson had been a demigod, Loki probably wouldn't have been able to stab him. But Coulson wasn't a demigod. There were only two that Steve knew of.

"Did you try to help Doctor Banner create another Super Soldier?"

Hera's shoulders stiffened, then sagged. She turned and leaned back against the dais, just inches from Coulson's feet. "Doctor Banner was curious about Erskine's project, as were many others. But we had withdrawn from Earth at Zeus' request, and so I couldn't go and nudge him in the right direction. Instead, I asked someone else to do it for me."

"But something went wrong," Steve said. He'd put money on Ares being the messenger Hera chose. He was the god of war and chaos; it would have been perfectly in character for him to interfere with Hera's plan. "It didn't work the way it was supposed to, and instead of another Super Soldier, he wound up creating the Hulk instead. And now you've taken Coulson with the intention of making him a demigod as well?"

"Balance must be restored," Hera murmured, though it had a desperate quality to it.

"Then why haven't you returned him to Earth?" Steve asked.

"Because you will waste him!" Hera shouted. "He will be nothing more than a tool in the hands of warmongers. And when they are finished with him, there will be nothing left of him to bury." She lowered her head. "I have grown weary of mourning the loss of noble ideals and fine men, sacrificed on the altar of good intentions."

"You know me," Steve said, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. "You chose me to be your champion, knowing what kind of man I am. I've worked hard, from the beginning, not to allow those who thought they owned me to control my life. I've stood up for what's right and fought for those who couldn't."

He stood and walked over to stand beside Coulson. "You chose Agent Coulson as well. You saw a good man in him, one who isn't afraid to do the right thing, orders be damned. You have to know he won't be a tool. Not for Fury, not for anyone. He'll do what he believes is right, because that's the kind of man he is. By holding him prisoner here, you're taking that choice away from him. And if you know him at all, then you know he of all people wouldn't want to sit on the sidelines while others fight. It's why he's here, after all, and not back on Earth celebrating the victory over Loki and the Chitauri."

He turned to face Hera then. She was still standing in the same place, her face turned towards him, silent tears falling from her eyes. He moved closer to her, reaching out with his thumb to wipe away the tears on her cheek. He hissed, the teardrops as cold and biting as ice where they touched him.

"He can't be your champion if he's hidden away here. He could be of use to the others in their fight against Ares, but he can't help if he isn't there," Steve said quietly. "If you won't send him back to Earth, send him to the Underworld, so he can spend eternity celebrating the heroic life he's lived, and the hero's death he died."

"I will not help them destroy my son," Hera said quietly, fury burning in her eyes.

"You more than anyone know what Ares is capable of," Steve said. He couldn't fault her maternal instinct, but he could most certainly blame her if she could help them stop Ares but chose not to. "You also know that if you don't help stop him—if you don't allow people like Agent Coulson to do their jobs—all the blood he sheds will be on your head."

With those words, Steve scooped up his shield and took his leave. He knew he couldn't keep talking; she'd either listen to him or not. He'd said his piece; now, it was up to her.

~o~

Clint sat on a bench near the entrance to Hera's gardens, head tipped back as he contemplated the sky above him. He was trying hard not to think about what was going on beyond the gate. He couldn't change what Hera had done, and she wouldn't let him in even if he tried; there was no love lost between her and the son of the nymph his father had taken for a lover.

She resented the hell out of every woman his father had taken to bed, and had a long and colorful track record of bitter jealousy and hostility towards them and their offspring. In a way, Ares' escape from Olympus had been a blessing. It had allowed Clint to leave, getting him out from the line of fire between her and his father. It was never a good place to be, and given that Olympus was populated by many of Zeus' children by other women, it was a constant worry.

But if he'd learned anything from his time on Earth, it was that no matter who you were or where you grew up, lousy parents were just a part of the deal. Not everyone had them; Coulson had grown up in a loving home with parents and siblings who'd loved and encouraged him, but Clint thought that was more the exception than the rule, which sucked, but wasn't something he dwelled on.

He looked up when the air around him stirred and crackled like an oncoming storm. Steve passed through the shield protecting the entrance and stopped just outside, hands on his hips, face tipped skyward as he took several deep breaths.

"You okay?" Clint asked.

Steve glanced at him and tipped his head in a barely-there shrug. "Yeah, I'm good. Just feel like I went ten rounds with a prizefighter."

"She can be a handful," Clint said. He stood up and headed down the walkway, Steve turning to follow him. He didn't want to ask the question, but he figured he needed to know. "You get her to turn Coulson loose?"

"I don't know," Steve said. "She's got some mixed up ideas. I'm not sure she was really listening to me."

Clint stopped and turned to face his companion, who stopped beside him. "You did your best. That's all any of us was asking. It's not your fault my stepmother is fucked up. She's been this way for millennia. Spending a few minutes trying to talk her off the ledge isn't gonna fix that."

"Doesn't make me feel any less like I've failed a friend," Steve said quietly.

"Thanks for that," Clint said, patting Steve on the shoulder. "Come on. I have a feeling Hestia and Demeter have pulled out all the stops. We can eat and drink, even if there's no merry in sight."

"Yeah," Steve said. He took a deep breath and followed Clint as they made their way back to the lower terrace where they'd met the two goddesses. "How'd it go with your father?"

"Eh," Clint said, shrugging. "He's never gonna be father of the year, but it's all good. Mostly he wanted to hear about what's been happening on Earth. They've been watching, but he still wanted to hear my perspective. Especially about Ares."

"You know who he is," Steve said.

Clint glanced at him, aware that it wasn't a question. "Yeah, we know. He actually recruited Fury into SHIELD. He thinks it's fucking hilarious that we've come here to keep an eye on him, but it's him who's keeping an eye on us."

"Any idea what his end-game is?"

"No," Clint said. He frowned. "It worries me, because he's capable of a whole lot of really fucked up shit, even as a human. We just have to hope we can stay ahead of him."

"If you need any help, you know I'll be there," Steve said.

Clint looked over at the Captain and smiled. "Thanks. We may need you before it's all said and done."

~o~

When they reached the terrace, Clint moved in the direction of the table and the crowd that was gathering for the meal, but Steve didn't join him. He was still bothered by his conversation with Hera, and wasn't sure he'd be good company. Instead, he stopped near the edge of the terrace and stood, looking out at the view, trying to make sense of everything he'd been told.

"You seem troubled, child."

Steve glanced to the side, finding Hestia standing beside him looking concerned. He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to let go of his frustration and anger.

"Not troubled, just… disappointed, I guess," he said quietly. "I feel like I failed Clint—Hermes."

"Hermes knew that you would have a difficult time persuading Hera of anything," Hestia said. "He bears you no ill will for what has transpired. Surely you know this."

"Yeah, doesn't mean I don't still feel bad."

Hestia laid a hand on his shoulder, turning him to face her. "You would not be the man you are if you felt any less." She paused, cocking her head to one side. "Did she tell you of your origins?"

"Yeah, she did," Steve said, nodding. "Can't say I'm exactly thrilled about that, either. The idea that I'm beholden to her for anything is, frankly, distressing."

"I would not concern yourself overmuch about such things," Hestia said, her eyes crinkling with her smile. "Olympus has adopted you as her own. Whatever part Hera played in creating you has been subsumed by the claims of this place. She did, after all, allow you to come here, and is showing you the best of what she has. To find favor with Olympus is to be blessed indeed."

Steve wasn't sure he understood that. Clint had made it seem as though he had a right to come here because he was a demigod, and so a part of him was from here. It did seem as though she'd shown him all the delights Olympus could offer, including this incomparable view of the valley below, complete with dancing meadow and babbling brook. It was almost like paradise, and just the sort of place he'd love to spend a lazy afternoon.

"And she knows you favor one of us," Hestia said. Steve could see the mischief and merriment dancing in her eyes, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel it too.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, ma'am," he said, almost blushing at the thought.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed. "I think you do. Fear not, I will tell no one. But if you have found favor with our bright-eyed girl, you are a fortunate man, indeed. She does not turn her smile to just anyone. A man must be formidable to catch her eye."

"I'm not sure I am," Steve said, not even bothering to pretend he didn't know who she was talking about. "Not that it's going anywhere. When she's finished doing what she came to Earth to do, she'll be returning here. And as much as I like it here, it's not home."

"Do not make plans for days that have not yet come to pass, my child," Hestia admonished gently. "You do not yet know what those days will hold. Instead, choose to live in the moment, and enjoy the blessings afforded to you by the gods, for you do not know when they may come your way again."

With that, she patted his arm and glided away. Steve watched her go, shaking his head, more amused than anything else. Meddlers, the lot of them, he thought. Some of them sweet and well-intentioned, but still busybodies and meddlers.

Still, he followed her back to the terrace and the table that awaited them.

~o~

It looked like the feast had been going on for a while before Steve and Hestia joined them. Clint was curious about what they'd talked about, but he wasn't going to pry; if Steve wanted to tell him, he would.

Others had drifted to the table but it was still a small group, relatively speaking. Dionysus lounged on one side, drunk as usual and regaling the group with stories of his drunken escapades with the humans. Clint had never liked the guy, but even he had to admit that Dionysus could throw a fantastic party when he put his mind to it.

Aphrodite had joined them, and appeared to be attempting to climb Steve like a tree. He would almost feel sorry for his teammate, except that he knew Aphrodite was an excellent lover, and taking a goddess to bed was the experience of a lifetime for a human. Not that he'd say it out loud, but he did enjoy thinking it. Besides, if his father was right, it wasn't Aphrodite that Steve had his eye on, and that would make returning to Earth so much more interesting.

Eros had drifted in at one point, complaining that the humans weren't responding to him like they had once upon a time. He had to work harder and harder just to make a match, which pissed him off. Plus, he still wasn't over the fact that Clint had taken up the bow and arrow, and mastered it to the point that he might actually be the better marksman. Clint thought it was hilarious; Eros not so much.

Even Hebe had made an appearance. Clint had figured she'd be in the garden with her mother, but when he'd sent a questioning eyebrow her way, she'd pursed her lips and shaken her head. And if she couldn't get through to her own mother, then Clint knew they just might have to leave without Coulson and hope for the best. He was definitely not happy about that.

But just when he'd resigned himself to pulling Steve away from Aphrodite and heading for the gateway, a murmur rippled around the table. Clint's head popped up from where he'd been bent in conversation with Hestia to find Coulson standing near the pool, hands in his pockets, looking around with a deeply curious expression on his face.

Clint turned to Steve and nudged him, tipping his head in the direction of their friend.

"Well," Hestia said softly. "It would seem that your friend has found favor with She of the Heights."

Clint pushed back from the table and made his way to Coulson. He stopped a few feet away and looked at his friend. He seemed to be none the worse for wear, despite having been stabbed to death by a spear. His suit—his favorite charcoal grey Dior—had been rendered in pale grey, and his blue tie had barely any blue left in it at all.

But even those things wouldn't have tripped Clint's trigger, except that Coulson looked different. The creases and wrinkles he'd gotten used to seeing on his handler's face had smoothed out, so that his skin now looked youthful and glowing. It reminded him forcefully of Captain America, and it was in that moment that Clint realized what his stepmother had done.

"Are you okay, sir?" he asked, needing to hear it from the other man, despite the evidence that he was, in fact, still alive.

Coulson shrugged, a small smile playing at his mouth. "As well as can be expected, considering I thought I was dead."

"Did—do you know what happened?"

"Hera explained it to me," Coulson said. "I might not have believed her, except…" He pulled his hands out of his pockets and waved them around in a very un-Coulson-like way. "And you're here, which probably shouldn't be possible. Then again, I've just had my reality rearranged, so I suppose anything is possible."

"I promise we'll have a long and probably scary conversation about this, but now's not the time," Clint said, aware of the avid interest on the faces of everyone at the table. "For now, would you like something to eat or drink?"

"I could eat," Coulson said.

Clint turned and headed back to the table, knowing Coulson would follow him. When they'd settled back at the table, with Coulson sitting between the Captain and Clint, Zeus spoke up from the head of the table.

"Agent Coulson, it is good to see you well again. I regret that you were caught up in Hera's machinations."

"I appreciate your concern," Coulson said as he took a cup of Ambrosia from Clint. "I probably shouldn't be as surprised as I am to find that the gods of Greek mythology are real, considering our experiences with Thor."

"Ah, the Asgardians," Zeus said. "Still meddling in the affairs of humans, I take it?"

Clint thought his father's superior attitude was rich, considering what they'd just been through, but he didn't call him on it.

"It would seem that those from other Realms are unable to help themselves where humans are concerned," Coulson said mildly as he helped himself to some of the fruit on the plate Clint had set in front of him. "This is fantastic. It's too bad we can't take some back with us."

Clint hid his laugh behind his cup. He glanced over at Steve to find him doing the same. All around the table, Clint could see the others were not even trying to hide their amusement. The table rattled a bit as Zeus' temper got the better of him, but much to Clint's surprise, he kept it in check.

Conversation resumed around the table, more subdued than it had been before, but that was okay. Clint was just glad to have Coulson back. However, now that they'd accomplished what they came to Olympus to do, he knew the time to leave was coming.

Truthfully, he wasn't tempted at all to stay. He'd left unfinished business back on Earth, and as much as he missed his home, he knew he was needed on Earth. That made it easier to leave. Well, that and knowing that he could come back anytime he wanted to. It might not be fair, because Fury and the others couldn't, but he wasn't going to feel guilty about it anymore. That was his role—Messenger of the Gods—and no matter what happened next, he wouldn't turn his back on his fellow Olympians.

~o~

The three of them walked down the path towards the gateway in a tense silence. Clint figured that Steve was probably still trying to process his little chat with Hera. Coulson no doubt had a thousand questions he was very carefully keeping a lid on until he could ask them in private later—and most likely freak the fuck out. Clint figured he was entitled, so he'd let it slide, even if Agent Phil Coulson never, ever, freaked out about anything. Ever.

"How much longer until we reach the gateway?" Steve asked, breaking the silence.

Clint shrugged. "Who knows? We'll get there when we get there."

"Wait, you mean you don't know how long it'll take to walk back to the gateway?" Steve asked, slightly incredulous. "Are we even going in the right direction?"

"It's kinda like hitting a moving target," Clint said. "Stay focused, lead the mark, and you'll score the hit."

"This has to do with the part we don't talk about, doesn't it?" Steve asked. "The part where Olympus is slightly alive."

"Yeah, it does," Clint said, nodding. "Most of the time, the gateway is there when you need it, right where you remember it being the last time you saw it."

"Most of the time?" Coulson asked, one eyebrow raised.

Clint shrugged again. "Sometimes she doesn't want you to leave, so she'll play hide-and-seek with the gateway. You just have to be persistent; she'll give it up at some point."

The boom of rolling thunder split the air, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Lightning crackled in the air around them, setting Clint's teeth on edge. He looked around, trying to find the source of the phenomenon, only to come face to face with his stepmother.

"Hera," he said, barely concealing his disdain for the woman. "Taking a page out of Father's book, are we?"

Lightning flashed in Hera's eyes as she stood within the whipping winds of her own temper. "I have not come for you, whelp. Be silent."

"Not likely," Clint shot back. He reached for his bow, nocking an arrow so he'd be ready if she tried anything. "You can't have Coulson back, either. You set him free. Your word may mean nothing to me, but it should mean something to him."

"Be glad that your father—" and this she said with a sneer "—values you so. I would dearly love to put you in your place for such insolence."

"Was there something you needed, ma'am?"

Steve's voice cut through the hostility writhing in the air like a living thing. Clint had to give him credit: he didn't appear cowed by Hera's grandstanding.

Hera closed her eyes and took a visible breath. As she did, the wind surrounding her like a fierce storm died away until there was nothing left but a gentle breeze. Clint relaxed his stance, letting go the tension he'd been holding on his bow at the appearance of the goddess.

When she opened her eyes, they glowed a bright, golden-white. Clint could almost believe her beautiful, if he didn't know better. A quick glance at his companions showed similar thoughts, though they both seemed more… reverential, which made sense in Coulson's case, and confirmed for him what he'd suspected about who had been responsible for making Steve into a demigod. If this devolved into a real fight, he wouldn't be able to count on either man's assistance. Disappointing, but not altogether surprising.

Hera's gaze fixed on Coulson. "I have… a request."

"As long as it causes no harm to anyone, I'm willing to listen," Coulson said.

Hera held out her hand. Nestled in her palm was a golden amulet, with a bull's head etched into the surface, hanging on a sturdy leather thong. Phil took it, examining it from all sides before he tucked the amulet and his hands into his pockets.

"Thanks," he said.

"It is a gift, for Bruce Banner," Hera said. "It will help him retain his… humanity, when his alter-ego is forced to the fore."

Clint got it without having to ask: Hera felt somehow responsible for the creation of the Hulk, and this was her way of making amends. He hadn't been sure, before, that she was even capable of such a thing. Perhaps time had changed her as it had changed all of them.

Coulson inclined his head. "We are grateful for your assistance. I'll make sure Doctor Banner receives it."

Hera seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before pulling her shoulders back. "Please, I ask you to be kind to my son. Ares… is his father's son as much as he is mine. It is a burden I would wish on no one. Do not punish him for this."

"We don't want to kill him," Clint said, feeling unaccountably charitable towards a woman he knew would rather he was dead than standing before her. "We only want to stop him from harming any more humans. You have my word that we'll return him to Olympus, if it's at all possible."

"I… thank you," Hera said, inclining her head regally.

With a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, she disappeared.

"Well, that was certainly… interesting," Coulson said.

Clint snorted. "Just another day in Olympus."

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

~o~

The gateway back to Earth didn't look any different than it did the last time he'd seen it, but Steve was wary of it all the same. He hadn't forgotten the pain, or feeling like an elephant had taken up residence on his chest. But despite how nice it was in Olympus, it wasn't home. Not for him, anyway. And while Earth didn't feel much like home these days either, it was more of a home to him than the green hills of Olympus.

The huge wooden doors stood open, revealing the elevator car, just as they had left it. It was the sort of cognitive dissonance that made Steve's head hurt.

Clint turned to them when they arrived at the gateway, pinning them both with a serious look, fists on his hips as if he were expecting a fight.

"Look, Steve knows this, but I'm gonna say it again: the ride's gonna suck. For all of us, but maybe for Coulson the most."

"Why for me?" Coulson asked. "And why is it going to suck?"

"The gateway stripped all of our humanity away," Clint said. "For me it's no big deal, because I'm technically not human anyway. But for Steve, it probably felt like someone was trying to turn him inside out."

Steve nodded. "It was the most pain I've experienced since Rebirth."

"Are you saying the ride down is going to be just as painful for both of us?" Coulson asked.

"I'm saying we're all gonna wish we'd died," Clint said. "If you're lucky, you'll pass out."

"So, what's going to happen?" Steve asked.

"The same process, in reverse," Clint said. "Olympus will return your humanity to you, and it's gonna feel like someone's tryin' to cram ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag. You're gonna struggle to breathe, and you may throw up. It won't last long, but it'll be intense. I'm gonna feel it as much as you do, but because I'm Olympian, it'll probably be easier for me to cope with the pain."

"And why will it be harder for me to go through this?" Coulson asked again.

"Because you're… newly-made, for lack of a better term," Clint said. His expression softened, and Steve could see the honest affection he had for their friend. "Your connection to Olympus is strong right now, probably as strong as mine. But because it's so new, it's gonna feel like someone's taking a hot knife to your chest, to try to cut it out. Just… ride out the pain, take deep breaths, and lean against the wall if you have to."

"Alright," Coulson said, nodding his head.

Steve felt a fresh wave of respect for the man in that moment. He was facing down the unknown, and yet he was calm, cool and collected. Even Steve, whom the Commandos had looked to as their rock, could feel the self-assuredness rolling off the Senior Agent. It was… reassuring.

"Okay," Clint said, blowing out a breath. "Here goes nothing."

All three men stepped into the elevator. The doors swung shut with a final thud, and the lights flickered. Under them, the floor shifted and rattled, and to Steve it felt just as though they'd stepped onto an elevator.

And then it hit him. Pain searing through his body, as if he were being flayed alive. And the pressure, more intense than the last time, as if a whole herd of elephants had sat down on his chest to have tea. He went down on one knee, struggling to breathe, focusing on the in and out of air through his lungs because that was the only thing he could do.

It seemed to go on forever, but then just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Steve glanced to his right, finding Agent Coulson sitting on the floor of the elevator, leaning back against the side wall, head tipped back and breathing through the urge to vomit. Between them, Clint stood leaning against the back wall, hands on his knees, looking decidedly green.

Steve could relate. Not even Rebirth had made him want to throw up, but this had nearly done it.

He stood on shaky legs, leaning against the side wall as he struggled to find his equilibrium. Clint straightened up, stretching a little, but otherwise didn't look too much the worse for wear. Agent Coulson rose gracefully to his feet, adjusting his tie and cuffs, appearing to have mastered the urge to lose his last meal. He still looked a little peaky, but Steve supposed that was to be expected, after what they'd been through.

"Welcome back to the Tower, gentlemen."

Steve looked up, thoroughly startled, but it was Clint who answered. "That you, JARVIS?"

"Indeed," JARVIS said. "Your presence in the elevator only just registered on my sensors. As you have Agent Coulson with you, may I take it that your mission was successful?"

"Yeah, we managed," Clint said, tossing a quick smile at the senior agent. "Stark around?"

"Sir has retired for the evening, but bade me to welcome you back and escort you to your quarters, should you require rest," JARVIS said.

"That would be great," Steve said. He hadn't been tired when they'd entered the elevator, but now it felt like he'd been up for three days straight.

"Sir has arranged for quarters for Agent Barton and Captain Rogers," JARVIS said. "I can arrange guest quarters for Agent Coulson as well, if that's your preference."

"He can stay with me, JARVIS," Clint said. Coulson flashed him a grateful smile.

"I do hope you find everything to your liking, gentlemen," JARVIS said. "If you have need of anything, please don't hesitate to contact me."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Coulson said.

The elevator slid to a stop and the doors opened. Steve stepped out into what looked like the living room of a very well-appointed apartment. He turned to see Clint and Coulson standing in the elevator, watching curiously.

"Gentlemen," Steve said, nodding.

"Captain," Coulson said. "Thank you for coming to get me. I appreciate your efforts and the sacrifice you made to do so."

"You're welcome, sir," Steve said. "I'm just glad I could help."

The elevator door slid closed and Steve slumped with relief. As interesting as that whole experience had been, he was glad to be—well, not home, exactly, but at least somewhere he sort of recognized.

~o~

Just one floor down, Phil followed Clint into the quarters JARVIS had said were designated for the archer. He watched silently as Phil shed his jacket and tie, and rolled up his sleeves before settling on the couch, an expectant look on his face.

Clint shrugged out of his quiver and vest, dropping them and his gloves in a pile by the couch. When he flopped down beside Phil, he could see the man's eyebrow climb his forehead.

"I'll get it later," he said, waving a hand at the pile. "Fuck, I'm so tired."

"We don't have to do this now," Phil said. "But I would like some answers later, when you're up to it."

Clint rolled his head to the side. "I thought you'd be pretty worn out by now. Becoming a demigod and all."

"I don't think I've been this tired since Basic," Phil said, leaning back on the couch, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "I could sleep for a week."

Clint watched Phil carefully. It was like, once he'd taken off his jacket and tie, he'd become somehow more vulnerable. Clint wasn't sure he liked that very much. Phil was supposed to be indestructible. Clint had always relied on him to be the calm and collected one, the eye of whatever storm they found themselves in. To see him undone by this was unnerving, but maybe Clint needed to see this. To understand that Phil was, if not strictly human anymore, still human in all the essential ways.

"I want to thank you, Clint," Phil said earnestly, turning his head so he could see Clint clearly, "for coming for me. For not giving up on me."

"Steve was the one who talked Hera into letting you go," Clint said. "But I couldn't just leave you there. I had to do everything I could to get you back."

"I still want you to know how grateful I am to you for being willing to come to my aid," Phil said. "I have precious few people I count as friends, but thankfully you're one of them."

"Always, Phil, you know that," Clint said, swallowing hard. "I'll always be there for you. You don't even need to ask."

Clint could remember life before Phil, but his world was infinitely better with Phil in it. He knew his emotions were all tangled up when it came to the Senior Agent, but one thing he knew for certain was that he didn't want to do any of this without the man by his side and in his ear.

"And we'll be talking about that later, too," Phil said. A small smile made his eyes crinkle pleasantly. "But for now, I think some rest is in order. We've both had a trying day… week… whatever."

Clint couldn't help it, he giggled. "Yeah, I think you need some sleep. You're starting to sound like me."

Phil tried to frown, but Clint could see the smile still peeking out around the edges.

"I'll just—" Clint said, standing up and waving at the couch. "You know me; I can sleep just about anywhere."

"I'm not going to put you out of your own bed," Phil said, standing and grabbing his hand, stilling him. A faint blush tinted his cheeks. "I just mean, if I can reach out and touch you, it might make it easier for me to sleep. To believe this is real; that I'm really back."

"Right," Clint said. "I can do that."

He could feel his heart rate picking up. It wouldn't be the first time they'd shared a bed. There'd been some ops where the safe house was barely a shack and the only bed was barely big enough for one man, but they'd made do. Besides, he knew he'd sleep better if he could check on Phil whenever he wanted to. Finding him missing from the morgue had shaken him, so maybe he wasn't the only one who needed the extra security that sleeping beside each other could provide.

This felt different than those past ops, though. There seemed to be something hanging in the air between them--something huge and important, and something he definitely wanted. He'd known who held his heart for a long time, knew he could trust Phil with everything he was. But for just now, he could also be the friend that Phil needed. There'd be time for everything else later. Thankfully.

They made their way silently to the bedroom and stripped out of their clothes, neither one bothering with a shower or brushing their teeth. Olympus had scoured away all traces of Earth when they'd traveled, so it wasn't like they were dirty. They slid beneath the covers, and rolled until they were facing each other.

The lights dimmed—JARVIS, probably, and Clint would definitely lecture Stark later about his AI's peeping-tom tendencies—plunging them into darkness. Clint fought the pull of sleep, not wanting to take his eyes off Phil. Eventually, though, exhaustion won out and his eyes fell closed.

Just before he dropped off to sleep, he heard Phil whisper, "Thank you, Clint."

"You're welcome," Clint said with a sleepy smile on his face before he drifted off to sleep.

~o~

Steve stood at the counter in Stark's kitchen, staring out the window at Manhattan, lit by the golden light of dawn. There'd been a coffee pot in his new quarters, and JARVIS had even offered to make him whatever fancy caffeinated drink he desired.

All he wanted was out of that apartment, though he didn't really know why.

He was… uncomfortable with the knowledge he now had about the origin of Erskine's formula, and just how much the gods of Olympus had interfered in his life. In all their lives, really. He didn't revere them as gods, as humans once did. He'd seen too much of who they really were, even in the short time he'd been in Olympus, to ever believe them to be perfect or even right. Their meddling might have caused more harm than good, and it wasn't over yet, which frustrated him most of all.

"Captain."

Steve turned his head, seeing Maria Hill standing across the room. She looked… stunning. She wore a navy dress that skimmed her curves and dark heels that brought her closer to his height. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon, and even though he knew her attire was meant to be professional, it didn't change his reaction to her, much to his own chagrin.

"Agent Hill," he said, nodding at her before turning his attention back to the view.

Maria crossed the room and helped herself to some of the coffee. She stopped a few feet away and stared out the window as well, sipping silently at her cup.

"Thank you," she said quietly, when several minutes had passed in silence.

"You heard, then," he said.

He saw the shrug out of the corner of his eye. "I asked JARVIS to let me know when you returned. And whether or not—well."

"Does Fury know?"

"I haven't told him," Maria said, shaking her head. "I don't know if Phil or Clint have reported in, but I'll leave it to them to proceed as they see fit. It's not my job or my business."

Fury was a complication in all this. He'd come to Earth to help the Olympians find and neutralize Ares. Clint had seemed disinclined to trust him, and Steve was beginning to think he might be right. If they'd known where Ares was, why hadn't Fury moved on him by now? Had he switched sides? He knew he wasn't going to find the answers standing in Stark's kitchen, but he had no idea where to start looking. 

"Is he—how was Phil, last time you saw him?" Maria asked, her voice tight.

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. He turned and leaned a hip on the counter, facing Maria with his coffee cup held in front of him like… well, like a shield. He snorted and set it down on the counter beside him, spinning it idly as he really looked at Maria. She looked tired, as if she hadn't spent a good deal of time in the last—however long they'd been gone—sleeping.

"Agent Coulson has been returned to full health," Steve said carefully.

"But," she said. "There's always a but at the end of a sentence like that."

"But," he said, taking a deep breath. "But he's now a demigod. One of Hera's making."

"That bitch," Maria said, slamming the coffee cup she'd barely drunk from down on the counter, sloshing the contents over the sides. She grabbed a bar towel that had been left nearby, viciously and methodically cleaning the coffee off her hands and the counter until nothing remained. She tossed it aside, clenching her jaw in obvious frustration. "What does she expect of him?"

"I don't know," he said. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatever she told him, I wasn't there to hear it. I'm not even sure why she let him go. Nothing I said to her seemed to make a dent."

He watched as she took several deep, calming breaths, hands braced on the counter as if she needed it to hold her up.

"You okay?" he asked some minutes later.

She turned to him and he could see—literally see—the fire burning in her eyes. He moved closer to her, lifting a hand to offer her some reassurance before thinking better of it.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. He looked deep into her eyes, but all he could see was fury and remorse.

"Phil was taken because he got between the gods," she said, her voice a broken whisper. "I will burn this world to the ground to find the man responsible."

"You don't blame Hera?"

"Hera is a pawn as much as any of us are," she said. "You don't honestly think Ares hasn't thought this all through? He's a warmonger, down to his very marrow. Wearing the Cloak hasn't changed that."

"Only now someone you care about has been caught in the crossfire," Steve said. "If Hera is working with Ares, I'd be surprised. She seemed… devastated that he was involved. She practically begged us to have mercy on him."

Maria stiffened. "No. I will not—"

"I'm not suggesting we just let him get away with anything, but let me ask you this: could any prison on Earth contain him? Especially if he retook his true form?"

"No," she said, slumping slightly. "There's no place on Earth that could."

"Then we have to send him back to Olympus and hope the gods can do what we can't," Steve said. "And I'm very much on board with that plan."

"Is it enough, though?" she asked. "For everything he's done? For everything he plans to do?"

"It'll have to be," Steve said. He looked deep into her eyes, getting lost in the swirl of blues and greens. He debated with himself before asking the one question that was burning a hole in his mind. "Hestia said…" He blushed a little, but pressed on. "She said I'd 'found favor with our bright-eyed girl.' Was she talking about you?"

Maria ducked her head, but Steve could see her lips quirk up in a small smile. She looked up and met his eyes directly, which Steve thought was kinda brave. "I admire the man you are, and how you've handled everything that's been thrown at you. Not many men could wake up in a whole new world and adapt so quickly, while still holding on to who they are and what they believe."

Steve's blush deepened. "I've always felt like I had to be a man people could depend on, serum or no serum. It's just a lot easier now than it used to be."

"I'm sure it is," Maria said. "I've known many men in my millennia of existence—Olympians and humans both—and rarely have I found a man I could call my equal. Contrary to what the myths say, I've not lacked for male companionship, but the truth is that I found none of them to be a challenge."

"A challenge, huh?" Steve asked, one eyebrow raised.

"A challenge," Maria said with a subtle nod. "You, Steve Rogers, challenge me. Just by being who you are, you challenge me to be a better person, god or human. I find that I enjoy that challenge."

Steve dropped his hands and shoved them into the pockets of the jeans he'd found in his quarters when he woke up that morning, blushing to the roots of his hair. Maria just smiled.

~o~

Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stabbing Clint in the eyes with all that bright light. He was going to have to lecture Stark later on the value of window coverings for people who liked sleeping past dawn. Or sleeping at all.

He stretched and opened his eyes, finding Phil stretched out beside him, head propped on a hand as he watched his friend.

"You and JARVIS went to the same creeper school, didn't you?" Clint complained.

Phil shrugged. "I've only been awake for a few minutes myself. I thought I could go back to sleep, but…"

"Too many questions running around that brain of yours, huh?" Clint asked, his tone soft and forgiving. Phil had always been the planner, the one to catalog and collate all the information they'd need for any mission. Not having all the answers must have been like torture for him. Pushing himself up and angling so he could face Phil, he smiled. "Alright, what do you need to know?"

"What happened? How did I end up in Olympus?" Phil huffed, rubbing at his face as he pushed himself up to lean against the headboard beside Clint. "Do you know how fucked up that sounds?"

"I have an idea," Clint said. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm probably not the best person to talk to about this. I was fighting Natasha when you tried to take on Loki by yourself. And by the way, what the fuck, Phil? You couldn't wait for backup? You had to go charging in there and take him on, knowing you might not survive?"

Phil shrugged. "Someone had to. Or, at least distract him long enough for us to get the upper hand. I was closest."

"Bullshit," Clint said. "You're the one who taught me that there are better ways to go up against someone stronger than you; that direct confrontation never works, and it always costs us men and women we can't afford to lose."

"I did it because I thought if we could distract him, maybe his hold on you would loosen enough that we could get you back," Phil said quietly, staring at the ceiling as if he was afraid of looking Clint in the eye. "I couldn't let him keep you."

Clint let out a gusty sigh. That was almost too much for him to hear, though it made his heart skip a beat just the same. But he couldn't deal with that on top of everything else, so he pushed it to one side and stayed focused. "We are so talking about this shit at some point, but not today." He took another breath. "Okay, so sometime between Loki stabbing you and the end of the battle, Hera made it to Earth and stole your body, right out of the morgue. Right out from underneath Fury's fucking nose, if you can believe that shit. And let me tell you, Fury was not pleased. If he could have, I think he'd have gone to Olympus himself and strangled his sister. I'd have paid good money to see that, actually."

"Wait, are you saying Fury is an Olympian?" Phil said, sitting up a little at that. "For that matter, how were you able to reach Olympus? Hera only said my friends had come to get me, but she wouldn't say how."

"Yeah, um, I'm an Olympian," Clint said, shrugging. "And before you ask, it was a secret for a reason. Although once we realized you'd been taken, I kinda let the secret out of the bag."

"Just how many Olympians are there on Earth right now?" Phil asked. Clint could see the wheels spinning in his mind, trying to figure out who else might be more than they seemed. "And if you're an Olympian, how is it Loki's spear was able to subdue you? Shouldn't you have been impervious?"

"In this body, I'm just as human as you are." At Phil's huff, Clint shrugged. "Point taken. So, I'm mostly human in this form. The Cloak of Humanity I wear makes me weaker than my true form, but I still shouldn't have been that vulnerable. Whatever that spear is made of—and my money's on Tesseract energy, or something like it—it's more powerful than any natural defenses I have. I basically had no chance of resisting."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Clint," Phil said quietly, turning to face him. "So, Olympians."

"There are five of us," Clint said, grateful for the change of subject. "Ares came first, and the rest of us followed him, because nothing good can come of the God of War and Chaos living on Earth."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"Hermes," Clint said, sighing. "Look, don't be angry. It wasn't my secret to tell. Well, not only my secret. And that was the deal we made with my Father as a condition of us coming here. The humans… they don't need us anymore, and wouldn't know what to do with us if they knew we were here. Most don't even believe we exist. Which is fine. Frankly, it's a lot more work than it's worth to keep the humans… interested. So, we stayed away."

"Until you were dragged back to Earth as a human yourself," Phil said. "I shouldn't be surprised. After meeting Thor, we should have guessed that there were more gods out there."

"Yeah, well, it's not like we've been on Earth advertising our existence or anything," Clint said. "I got a good laugh out of googling us when I was old enough to figure it out. Some of what the humans believe about us is so wrong it's actually hilarious."

"So, why did Hera take me?" Phil asked. "She wasn't very clear when she woke me up. She simply admonished me to 'take care, lest my life become forfeit on the altar of human avarice', and then sent me out to you. She seemed… a little off."

Clint snorted. "That's putting it mildly. Hera's always been crazy, but the years of isolation seem to have made it worse, somehow. You'd have to ask Steve what they talked about, but he told me that she was upset because she thought your death was meaningless, and that you'd been sacrificed to further someone else's agenda. Not that we're sure she didn't have her own agenda, but she claimed that she wanted to protect you, to make sure that no more good men were sent to their deaths for less than good reasons."

"I'm not sure I understand what that means, either," Phil said, frowning.

"It means you're a lot like Steve now," Clint said quietly. "Not quite indestructible, but pretty close. You'll probably live a lot longer than the average human will, too. Just promise me you won't let Fury send you out without backup, or some other stupid shit, just because he thinks you'll recover if someone tries to kill you."

"I promise I'll be careful," Phil said. "I have no intention of allowing myself to be killed a second time. Once was more than enough for this lifetime."

"Good, because I don't think I could take it again," Clint said, sighing with relief.

"So, who else came to Earth with you? Besides Ares?" Phil asked.

Clint sighed. "Athena—that's Maria Hill's true form."

"Maria, huh?" Phil said, humming. "Somehow, I can see that. She's always been extremely good with strategy. Who else? You said there were five."

"Artemis," Clint said, cringing internally at the blowback this reveal would create. "Nat."

Phil just sat and stared at him for a long moment. Clint could tell he was trying to slot this new information into his world view, but also probably wondering why he'd never suspected it before. "We thought it was because of the Red Room."

"The what?" Clint asked, blinking in confusion. That was so not what he was expecting.

"The Red Room," Phil said. "It was a Soviet training center for some of their more specialized assets. We had intel that Natasha had been trained there. Are you telling me she wasn't?"

"Oh, she probably was," Clint said. "Each of us was born here on Earth. I didn't ask what Nat's life was like before we recruited her, mostly because I could see the haunted look in her eyes every time she thought about it. It just wasn't worth making her relive it for idle curiosity, so I let it go."

"Who else?" Phil asked.

"Hades," Clint said. "Fury is Hades."

"So, you're saying that the Goddess of War, the Goddess of the Hunt, the Ruler of the Underworld and the Messenger of the Gods have come to Earth to stop the God of War from stirring up trouble among humans," Phil said. "That sounds like the opening to a bad joke."

"Yeah, well, I'm not laughing," Clint said. "It sucks large, but that's my life."

"Do we even know where Ares is?" Phil asked.

Clint couldn't help but notice the 'we' in that sentence. He grinned. "Oh yeah, we know."

~o~

It wasn't long before the kitchen started to fill up. The first to arrive were Clint and Agent Coulson. The archer made a beeline for the coffee pot and poured two cups, doctoring one while leaving the other alone. Steve wasn't surprised to find it was Coulson who liked his coffee black.

The second she realized they weren't alone, Maria was across the room and holding on to her friend for dear life. They spoke quietly for a few moments, and Steve turned back to the window to give them as much privacy as he could.

Clint joined him, and they sipped quietly at their coffee as they watched the sun rise over the Manhattan skyline.

"How is he?" Steve asked, cutting a glance at Maria and Coulson, finding them still talking quietly.

Clint shrugged. "About how you'd expect for someone who's just had his life rearranged without his permission. He'll cope. He always does."

"And you?"

Again, Clint shrugged. "Better now. Thanks. For everything."

Steve didn't say anything, just nodded. Whatever else he'd done, he'd tried to be a supportive friend; maybe that was what Clint had needed all along.

Coulson joined them by the windows, taking his coffee from Clint. "I'll need a sitrep at some point today. We need to know what's been happening since… how long were we gone?"

"It's been about a month," Natasha said from the doorway. She crossed the room and pulled Agent Coulson into a hug, then did the same for Clint. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining. "We were beginning to think you weren't coming back."

Clint rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, it didn't exactly go to plan."

"Clearly something worked," Stark said as he crossed to join them, "or else someone's been into my LMD files."

"I'm not a robot, Stark," Coulson said, "despite what the junior agents might believe."

"Not exactly human anymore, either," Natasha said quietly.

Coulson gave her a fond look. "No, not quite. But hopefully that's an asset and not a hindrance."

"JARVIS, breakfast?" Stark asked as he poured coffee into a mug.

"Awaiting you in the warming drawer," JARVIS said immediately. "The orange juice is in the refrigerator, and a second urn of coffee is currently brewing."

"Excellent work, JARVIS," Stark said.

Banner and Pepper joined them shortly after that, Pepper giving Coulson a long, teary hug. As frustrating as the whole experience had been, Steve was glad to have helped bring Coulson back to people who'd obviously missed him.

Instead of eating in the formal dining room Steve knew had to be in the penthouse suite somewhere, they all settled around the long table in the kitchen and ate family style, passing dishes around as everyone helped themselves to what had been left for them.

Conversation was limited to updating the three of them on what they'd missed in the month they'd been gone. Most of it was related to the rebuilding of Manhattan, and the publicity surrounding the alien invasion that SHIELD hadn't even bothered to keep quiet. Thor had returned to Asgard with Loki, and while Steve was disappointed he wouldn't be able to see justice done, he thought maybe it was better that way. It wasn't like they had a prison that could hold him anyway.

With the food mostly gone, conversation turned to Olympus and the events surrounding Coulson's return to Earth.

"Son of a bitch," Natasha said, when Clint finally admitted who'd taken Coulson. "That woman's been a pain in everyone's ass for millennia."

"You know Father's not going to do anything about it," Maria said.

"He's pussy blind," Clint said, causing several people to choke on their drinks. "What? It's true."

"They let you talk about your mother that way?" Stark asked.

"Christ," Clint said. "I thought you were supposed to know this shit, Stark. She's my stepmother, and let me tell you, it's a blessing that I'm here and she's there. The woman's a menace, and completely batshit on top of it all."

Steve could personally vouch for that opinion, but he chose to stay silent. No matter that she wasn't exactly sane, she'd saved a friend and sent him home with them. That had to count for something.

"Apollo still pissed about the bow and arrow thing?" Natasha asked.

Clint snorted. "No more pissed than Eros is. Or you, for that matter. Like you didn't challenge me to hit that target and then throw a tantrum when I hit it dead center on the first try."

"I did not throw a tantrum," Natasha said in her most dignified voice.

Steve figured Clint was right, but he wasn't going to say that out loud. He'd seen how deadly Natasha could be firsthand. He had no desire to find himself at the pointy end of her wrath.

"So, Hera allowed Agent Coulson to return to Earth," Banner said. "Why? What's her end game? I'm assuming she has one."

"I think she's hoping I'll be an advocate for her son, when we're finally able to confront him," Coulson said. "She did give me something. Sort of an apology, I suppose."

Coulson reached into his pocket and pulled out the amulet, handing it across the table to Banner, who took it, allowing it to dangle from the leather. "What is it?"

"She said it would allow you to retain your… humanity, is the best way to put it," Coulson said, "whenever The Hulk emerges."

Stark reached out a finger to touch it only to get zapped. "Hey! That thing bites!"

Banner chuckled. "Serves you right for trying to play with a toy that's not yours." He looked at it for several seconds, then dropped it around his neck. The amulet settled into the hollow of his throat and shimmered for a moment before resting gently on his skin.

This time when Stark touched it, it didn't do anything. He narrowed his eyes, seeming entirely too curious about the artifact. "We'll have to test it. I had a Hulk-proof room installed on one of the vacant office floors. As good a place as any to train."

"How does it feel?" Natasha asked.

"Like…" Banner flexed his shoulders, tilting his head from side to side as if to stretch the muscles. "I feel comfortable in my skin, for the first time in a long time." He looked to Coulson. "Thanks."

Coulson shrugged. "I'm just the messenger."

"So, speaking of the batshit crazy son of a batshit crazy bitch—"

"Subtle, Stark," Clint said.

"Never said I was," Stark shot back. He pointed at himself. "Iron Man."

Clint smirked. "Point."

"So, Ares," Stark said, redirecting the conversation back on topic. "Spill. And don't spare us the details."

The Olympians shared a glance, but it was Maria, sitting beside Steve, who spoke. "Alexander Pearce."

"The head of the World Security Council Alexander Pearce?" Stark asked incredulously. "The former head of SHIELD Alexander Pearce? That Alexander Pearce?"

"The one and only," Clint said.

"Do we have any idea what he's planning?" Banner asked. "Because my gut says he's planning something. Why else would he work so hard to get himself into a position of power?"

All eyes turned to Pepper, who huffed. "You do know this isn't like a vending machine, right?"

"We know you can't give us details, but something is better than nothing," Maria said.

"I'll try," Pepper said, nodding. She closed her eyes, and for long minutes, everyone at the table watched her. Just when it seemed like she'd have nothing to tell them, she opened her eyes, now sparkling gold. "The towers will fall, and from their ashes will rise the great beast from the sea, the enemy you know and know not."

"Well, that was helpful," Clint muttered.

Pepper smirked as she sat back in her chair, cradling her cup of coffee. "I told you it might not be useful."

"We could ask Fury," Coulson said.

"Or not," Stark said. "I don't trust him. Besides, I'm tapped into SHIELD's databases. Everything he knows, I know. And then some. I'll set up a keyword search with JARVIS. He can't hide from me."

"You do know that's illegal, right?" Natasha said.

"Eh," Stark said, shrugging one shoulder, sounding completely unconcerned. "I like to keep my friends close."

"And your enemies closer?" Clint asked.

"Which one is Fury?" Maria asked darkly.

"Both," several people at the table said at once.

Steve snorted. "Until he proves otherwise, I say we tread carefully where the Director is concerned. He's close to Pearce, right? Even though he knows who Pearce actually is, that doesn't mean he isn't at least somewhat compromised. I mean, he's waited this long to make a move on the man. How much of that is biding his time and how much is some misplaced sense of loyalty to Hera? She is his sister, after all."

"The man has a point," Banner said. "How did you put it, Tony? 'He's a lying liar who lies?'"

Clint burst out laughing. "Too true. Plus, he's been in a position to monitor Pearce, but he hasn't said much about what he's up to, so either Pearce has cut him out of the loop, or he's hoping to lure Fury over to his side."

"Death and War on the same side?" Pepper asked. She shuddered quietly. "That sounds like a bad idea."

"How long will it take you to finish the search?" Steve asked.

"Don't know," Stark said. "There's a lot of data to sort through. Maybe a week? If I knew what I was looking for, it would help."

"Black projects," Coulson said. "Look for holes in the budget. Places where funds are being diverted, either away from or towards."

"You okay with this?" Steve asked. Coulson was a company man down to his bones, and what they were proposing was not unlike treason.

"I have a unique perspective on what a god is capable of, here on Earth," Coulson said. "We have to stop Ares from doing any more damage. We have to stop him before things get out of hand like they did with Loki. Fury had asked me, before the Chitauri invasion, to be the liaison between SHIELD and The Avengers. I'm going to tell him yes, so I'll be in position to help you as much as I can."

"Welcome to the team, Agent," Stark said, raising his coffee cup.

The rest followed suit. Steve felt his heart swell a little. It was nice to be part of a team again.

~o~

Clint stood at the windows of the conference room in Stark Tower—what people were now beginning to refer to as Avenger's Tower, much to Stark's overwhelming chagrin—staring outside but not really seeing anything. It had been nearly a week since their Olympian field trip, and Fury still hadn't reached out to them. It was too quiet, and it made that spot between Clint's shoulder blades itch.

He sighed, thinking about what they were planning to do, and what might change today as a result. He had no doubts about the fact that they had to do something about Ares. Every day they let him run unchecked on this world was another day he had the freedom to plan the chaos that was so integral to his nature.

It was unacceptable to Clint, who'd sacrificed a great deal to come to Earth. They all had, really, but Clint especially had liked his life in Olympus. Leaving it hadn't been the easy decision he'd made it out to be, and his only comfort was the knowledge that he'd be able to return one day. With Phil, he hoped.

He just couldn't do that until the situation with Ares was dealt with, and he couldn't understand why Fury had waited so long. The man had a lot to answer for, starting today.

"He's not going to be happy when he realizes what he's been summoned here for," Natasha said as she sidled up beside Clint.

"We followed his lead because he's the oldest," Clint said. "Doesn't mean he's right."

"Besides, it'll make for great theater," Stark said from the head of the table. He'd kicked his feet up the minute he'd fallen into the chair and was busy doing who knew what on the tablet perched in his lap. "I told JARVIS to record the whole thing. Should be good for a couple of laughs."

"Are you two sure you want to throw in with us?" Steve asked Phil and Maria. They'd both marched into the room and settled at the table without a second thought. Clint knew Phil wouldn't back down, despite his close relationship with the Director. And Maria had been Fury's right hand woman for a long time; the cost to her would be high if Fury didn't cooperate.

Clint turned around to see Phil and Maria having one of their silent conversations, all eyebrows and head-tilts. He'd never quite figured out the code, and frankly, didn't think he ever would. Finally, Maria spoke. "I've sat back and waited long enough. Ares is getting more dangerous by the day. We have to make a move before he does."

"Sir, Director Fury has just entered the elevator," JARVIS said.

Stark tipped his chair up and dropped the tablet on the table, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Showtime."

Banner snorted. He'd been bent over his own tablet, giving the appearance that he wasn't aware of his surroundings, but Clint would bet good money that the man's situational awareness was almost as good as his own. For someone with a hair trigger on his temper, he had to be vigilant, though they'd proven in the days since their return from Olympus that the amulet Hera had given him really did provide a refuge for his mind. Oddly, it also helped control the transition, so he no longer had to worry about his temper causing him to shift. The changes that simple fact had brought were immeasurable in the man.

The seconds ticked by slowly as JARVIS counted down the floors until the elevator opened on the conference room they were seated in. Stark had converted one whole floor into a massive command center for the Avengers, complete with a large conference room table with a whole lot more chairs than this small group needed. It made Clint wonder what Stark was up to. He planned to ask, but the difference between Tony Stark and Nick Fury was that at least Stark would answer. He didn't keep secrets, and Clint wondered if that was because he just didn't know how.

Just moments before the elevator doors opened, Phil and Maria rose and walked around the table, taking seats at the end, near where Banner was still engrossed in his tablet. Clint looked at Phil, raised one eyebrow, asking without words, _are you sure?_

Phil gave a curt nod, which Clint returned in kind.

Steve took a seat next to Stark, near the head of the table, and Clint sat down beside him, with Natasha on his right, between him and Phil. Like this, with all of them on one side of the table, it was obvious which side they were all on. Fury wasn't going to be happy.

The elevator dinged, and Fury stepped out, striding across the floor, black trench coat billowing behind him. He stopped behind the chairs and tucked his hands behind his back, his eye roving over the scene laid out before him.

His gaze finally settled on Clint, one eyebrow raised. "If I were a more paranoid man, right about now I'd be wondering when the men in black coats and earwigs were going to jump out of the shadows and take me into custody."

"That's still on the table, pending the outcome of this meeting," Stark said pointedly.

"I am the Director of SHIELD," Fury said, drawing himself up and gripping the chair in front of him, his grip almost white-knuckled in his ire. "You don't summon me unless you have a damned good reason. So. The world had better be about to end, or this meeting isn't going to go well."

"Then, by all means, Director," Stark said, kicking his feet up on the table once more. "You have the floor. Give us your grand plan for how to neutralize Ares and we'll let you get back to work."

Each one of them sat silently, staring at Fury. It wasn't that they hadn't elected a spokesperson, because honestly, Stark could and usually did speak for himself, no matter what anyone else had to say. It was more that everyone seemed to be holding their collective breath, waiting for the Director to do something, or say something, or at least recognize that it was long past time to make a move.

"You can't wait this one out, Marcus," Phil said quietly. He looked at the Director—at his oldest friend—with a hard gaze. "You know what we're asking. If you can't end this, then get out of the way and let us do our jobs."

"You don't get to question me," Fury said, ire building like a fire behind his eye. "I'll do what I always do: what's best for this agency, for all you people, for the humans we're sworn to protect. And you don't get to question how I go about doing that."

And with a swirl of his coat, he stalked back to the elevator. The doors didn't automatically open, ruining his grand exit. Fury turned around and speared Stark with a glare.

"JARVIS, open the doors," Stark said.

Stark stood as the doors slid open and Fury stepped inside. The rest followed his lead, standing and watching as Director Fury stepped into the elevator and turned to look at them as the doors closed on his glare.

Steve leaned over, pressing his fists into the surface of the table, which rattled ominously.  
"Well, I guess that's pretty clear," Clint said as he crossed his arms. "If anybody's got any ideas for how we fight a war on two fronts, I'm all ears."

Natasha pressed a hand to his shoulder, squeezing in sympathy. Banner rubbed his neck while Maria massaged her temples. They weren't in shock, per se, but the frustration in the room was palpable.

"Fuck that," Stark said. He turned to face the rest of the team. "Fuck him. If he won't help, we sideline him and do it ourselves. It's why he assembled this team in the first place."

"Don't we need SHIELD's support?" Banner asked.

Stark's grin went shark-like. "Not even a little. Who do you think designed all his cute little toys? And I didn't even give him the best stuff. If Fury wants to take Ares' side, they'll both find out why it's not wise to piss off an Avenger."

Clint couldn't help it; he grinned. "I knew there was a good reason to keep you around."

"You're about to find out why," Stark said, pointing at the archer. "Follow me, William Tell. I've got some shit you're gonna love."

"Exploding arrows?"

Stark's grin, if it were possible, got wider. "Even better."

Clint shook his head, grin never quite going away, and followed Stark to the elevator, the rest of the team following behind, probably mostly out of curiosity. He could feel it as he walked, that sense of hope returning after far too long.

Things might not have turned out the way he expected, but he had a feeling they were going to come out okay in the end.

~Finis

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, here are the actors I've cast as Greek gods: [Zeus](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000146/mediaviewer/rm3283223808), [Hera](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0372176/mediaviewer/rm164993792), [Hestia](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000545/mediaviewer/rm795777792), [Demeter](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000949/mediaviewer/rm2140576512), [Eros](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004874/mediaviewer/rm4004029184) (because THAT cracks me up, no lie), [Aphrodite](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0378245/mediaviewer/rm3207773696), [Dionysis](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001467/mediaviewer/rm3463355136), and [Hebe](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0296219/mediaviewer/rm204798976).
> 
> Athena is most often called Glaukopis, which translates to "bright eyes", hence Hestia calling Athena "our bright-eyed girl". Hera is known, among other things, as She of the Heights, and the oldest symbol to be associated with her is cattle (which is why Bruce's amulet features an image of a bull).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Gods & Monsters [COVER ART]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12695592) by [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan)




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